Unearthed - The tale of the Crystal Magus
by Hiniberus
Summary: Ratis De Tere'nu, a soldier in the Noxian army turned human experiment some time after the mining operations in Kalamanda brought interesting results. Deceived and announced dead, what will the man without a name do to bring down those whom condemned him?
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

Life as a child in the state of Noxus is a hard land for any child to grow up in, having the name 'Ratis' did not quite help. At the simple age of ten did he already come to know the basic motto of the land, "Strength beats strength" and with that, he would start to seek it out with ire in any form he could muster. Initially, asking the parents, "Well, nothing much you can do at such an age. Just wait 'till you're older." the mother told him, "With enough training and practice, you'll never have to worry about anyone else ever again. Long as it is your hand with the weapon, never let another person hold their blade for you or next thing you know, it is in _your _back." Sound wisdom for a place such as this. Though, with time passing by all the more, Ratis started to become impatient, the name calling and teasing for a specific few were starting to show mental strain on the young lad. Slipping out of bed, he would confront his father about the verbal assailants, "Ho? Getting bullied are you?" the burning fire being kindled further with a bit of adjusting with the poker, "Simple, make it so that they cannot do anything to you without fear of harsh, curt retaliation, Ratis." A grin a man should not behold towards his child was shown, thus the beginnings of the Noxian culture were to be shown to him.

Leaving the fire for a moment, the broad man, darkly tanned with heavily calloused hands and just able to stand a head taller than most, would produce a pocket knife. The measly size of the blade in such a large hand seemed almost as if it was a blunt toy. Upon testing it with his own thumb, "Take it lad. Hide it here tomorrow." slipping half of it into the waistline of his son's trousers, "When they come, let'em get close. _Real close_ and have a go at his eye." the blade was short enough to not actually puncture the brain unless the hilt was forced through the socket, a bit extra force would be needed, which a child would not be able to produce. The small bade had pits within it, each hand sharpened to be able to not just slide in for a stab but cause further internal damage as well. Being the military's blacksmith, lead to requests far, far worse than such a simple dagger. Though in the mind of Ratis, the weight of the blade was something akin to obtaining new strength, running off to bed. The next day would come faster than anyone but he, would have wanted.

The mother questioned his giddiness the next day, from sulking as he left to ready to have a go at the day like it was something to look forward to. Though throughout the day, the name calling started again. For everyone else, it was a day like any other, typical routines and usual timetables. For Ratis, the true excitement was to start after the school released them. Despite everything, he seemed fine and unable to be irritated by the constant name calling. '_When classes finish...the eye...I will make him pay!_' came the resolve of the young one. He had come up with a plan, lead them away from general view and have away at them where instant help would be unattainable along with being left merely to his own decisions with regards to their fate. The antagonists, 'Gerivard Ulstrum' and 'Jules Mantle' were a shabby pair. The fact that the De Tere'nu family were associated with the military would provoke some to make the child come off as weak and disgrace the family name, other, more sensible folk would keep away from him as angering some of the higher-talented hands in the Noxian forgeries was not the best idea.

Coming to the end of the day, Ratis only brimmed with excitement. The only difference from the normal routine was that he seemed to be too jolly, which baited the duo into following him all the more. Upon reaching an alleyway, he would turn around, "_So ratface, why have you been so happy today, eh?_" Jules would call out to him, just as his father said, they closed the gap. The blade still hidden over by his shirt and kept in line by his waistline of his trousers would have kept it in perfect hiding for the entire day. The golden eyes, defiant towards the two, "Today, you're going to leave me alone!" he pointed a finger at them, leading to quite the bit of laughter ringing out. Though keeping his same expression, it seemed like as if he was being serious. Thus as Gerivard came to push him down and start hitting him, the hand flashed down to his right hip, the two inch blade held in a reverse grip, he would jump up onto Gerivard and as instructed, have a swift stab towards the eye. The deafening cry coming out started to attract attention, "_What did you just do to him?!_" came the voice of his friend, infuriated, Jules would soon come to know the pain Ratis had felt, in ways a young child should not be exposed to. Pulling the blade out lead to another scream of anguish as the punctured eye had even more torn off with the pits made available within the blade. Flailing his hand around as the weight of the situation caught on, he would cut the hands and arms, eventually diving unto Jules, blade first, it would sink in between the ribs and at worst, the diaphragm.

Quick to escape, he would clutch his bag, slip the knife in and escape leaving the two boys to their own fates.

After proudly telling his father about what he had done, the man took the knife, "Good, crush your enemies and inspire fear into them. Such, is the weight behind the phrase, _blood, for Noxus_." Eventually, the parents would show up at the door, demanding explanations as to what happened and why, a firm beating with a heated metal rod was the only reply that the respective families would get, "If yer children bother m'boy again. I doubt he'll show as much mercy as he did today." he'd spit at them, slamming the door shut and returning with a grin to his kid,

_"Get stronger boy, you'll like it."_


	2. Chapter 1: The Blood Within Noxus

**Chapter 1: **The blood within Noxus

Tossing the sheets out from over him and rolling off the bed in a swift motion, Ratis De Tere'nu welcomed the new day with a good amount of grace. Thanks to the rank of Staff Sergeant he had earned through nothing less than his pure physical training and duelling matches. Fighting and sparring his way from the masses and with a potential future in even higher seats. That was, if he ever did bother to attend a meeting. While praised to be able to now single-handedly wield great swords of his own father's design, the fact that he was rarely in the offices and training others than himself was something people started to mention. Taking on a lot after his father, the man had grown into a proud six foot five inch height with nothing but muscle on his frame. The skin was tanned to the point of it looking like light teak, as human as it could get at least. Large hands made for picking up the weapons of war were necessary and dry. Short yet unkempt dark copper hair was mostly covered by his helmet thus of no concern to him. A medium brow and slightly wrinkled forehead from constant looks of harsh concentration made the man seem a decade ahead of his actual age. The bright golden eyes betrayed the dark features he had, shining with ambition, aspiration, _strength_. A slightly unaligned nose, broken multiple times through his years in the army, along with a thin set of lips.

Going along with the typical morning routine, breakfast and hygienic needs were always met first with strong vigour. It was only half an hour until he donned his armour and great sword slung on his back, "_Yo sarge, same as always?_"swiftly turning to the source of the voice and with the momentum, a crack towards the jaw as with some unexpected swiftness, he had unleashed a left hook at the younger one, "Boy, how many times need I tell you? Address me properly or one day, you won't eat solids for a while." despite the threat, he was grinning at him, the significantly smaller one was a corporal under his command. Wearing lighter attire than his superior, he was wearing a simple leather armour but following in the footsteps of his superior clearly. The contrast between Ratis and Even, the corporal, was amazing. Reaching his head up only to his superior's collarbone, a tan forming on his skin and lean build, the budding potential for a scout seemed to grow within him as the two set off. After doing this for about a month, they eventually start to become friendly. Though, turns out that as part of the corporal's duties was also to be Ratis' secretary.

"So, 'Sir' " he started, emphasis on the last word in order to satisfy the request of being properly addressed, moving down the thick stone hallways and a step behind Ratis. Mostly using him to tank his way through the morning crowd, in all honesty, it worked as the man was simply an arctic tanker. People who did not brush against him and get out of his way, were not only toppled over but also stepped on with an intentionally heavy footfall by the man. Anyone can guess, their days to come would be ruined by the man wearing the full Noxian battle armour and his height and bulk combined. Even would continue, "You are in charge for the close armed combat. Specifically, _front line offence techniques _as requested by the bigwigs. Along with unarmed combat techniques. Each session to last a minimum of four hours each with a break for lunch and dinner at their respective times." an affirmed grunt from the hulking man would be all that Even would get as a typical reply. The halls of the Noxian barracks were all made out of granite, the same stone carved out of the mountain that most of the city was embedded in. Thick doors of dark oak from the surrounding forests, so brawls within do not disturb others outside. Gilded with bronze to signify that they are for the lower ranking members, Ratis himself had the same as well, even when offered to have it changed. He simply saw himself as a soldier, that is what he strived to be the best at and that is what he continued to dedicate himself to.

Eventually clearing out of the general areas, he would begin his daily half-hour jog down the hill and to the training grounds. Looking down at the corporal, "I ain' going to wait for you like I did last time. Don't care if you trip over, you know where to find me this time round." his voice was deep, throaty and with more authority than he actually had. No more jesting from his end though, despite being met with a grin, he would set out.

'_Get stronger boy, you'll like it'_

With those words ringing out in his mind, the tanking figure started to make its way on down the hill. While moving was generally easier, the challenge came in balancing one's self so they do not go hurtling downwards along with the fact that the footfalls would be heavier, so inducing restraint not to simply slam his feet down to the ground and wear them out faster. Such things may be considered trivial but when an extra 100 lb from armour alone, this was nothing to laugh at. Simply focusing on his breathing and path ahead, nods and simple greetings from the patrol guards were met with a nod in turn. While most would be questioning why such a figure was running down, most came to know that he was part of the army and alongside the fact that this was part of his daily training routine. The streets of Noxus were bustling with people performing morning duties, opening shops and displaying their wears to attract customers prior to the typical crowds. Arguments were normal, some swindling others with lower-than-promised quality and other attempting to swindle the shop keepers that said item was faulty or ineffective. Leaving such squabbles to the local guards to deal with, with the moisture of the night leaving the air with the rising sun and the area starting to heat up, the man would reach his destination. A few individuals on the training grounds but considering their size, the area was considerably barren. After reaching it, he did not stop. The massive sword would soon meet the training targets. Which in his case, were iron cast human figures with very high details, despite never asking, the mental question if it really was a person cast in iron did come to mind from time to time.

The sound of the giant blade clanging against the iron structures was the sign to most as to where his position was. The sound resonating with each strike showed that even when training, restraint was never present within the man. "_Uhm, sir?_" came a meek call, spinning around on his heels, he would be met with a line of soldiers, some tired still others awaiting instruction, "Right, you want to know what it is like to be charging on the front line? Raise your shields and tuck your bodies in." whirling the blade from hand to hand, "I'll let you know what a full on charge is like." he declared.

Within the halls of the high Noxian command, they gathered together for a meeting. Summoned by the only one with authority over them, the Grand General sitting atop his somewhat elevated position, not enough to make them feel inferior under him but designed to keep it in mind that he whom sits there, is the one who rules. Sitting upon his shoulder, Beatrice, the six eyed raven squawking at the others as they sat down. There was some silence, the plans had been in the words since the events in Kalamanda, "So, we have identified that there is indeed power within fragments we found." Swain declared, eyes shifting about on all present figures for any response from them, "Our...friends, in Zuan were all too eager to have a look at them. Combining them and amplifying the power, they have told me that it may be possible to conduct an operation that has never been performed on the continent." a few eyebrows were raised at this, "_Grand General Swain, were we not supposed to merely sell our findings to further fund our Military?"_ questioned one of the High Command, to which Swain nodded at, "Yes, I understand that. Though, what if I was to tell you, that we may be able to create a soldier who would surely win us any fight, within those childish _fields of 'justice'_ and outside of them?" any mentioning of the institute seemed to bring distaste towards his vocabulary, though the reaction from the High Command seemed to be stoic for the time being, until they had more information that was. Noting this, "We have a Nexus fragment large enough to embed into a human being. Bring them power, unlike that of any other. Though, we do not quite know the success rate of this. So we shall choose a single person who has notable endurance levels and will."

The notable lack of Darius' presence let them think for a moment, "No, the Hand of Noxus is currently at the institute. I would not risk a man of his calibre to be killed only due to a fault within the operation, plus, these scientists _always _make the numbers look better than they actually are." he would add, "Make an excuse to form a general assembly, or well, actually-" a grin forming behind the clothed mouth, "Let us set up a competition. No weapons, we shall weed out a large amount of people by making it a sign up and simply go through the tournament as a random draw" reclining in his chair a bit as the plan came to form, "Thus like that, we have them in the best of their condition. Then we give them some petty little prize and select them. Entice them with further power, potential for further power and promotions. Then simply go along with it, keep everything under the wraps. Get the mages, tell them to prepare for training. Send out for Warwick, Doctor Stanwick Piddly and Singed. They will all be glad to hear of our ready acceptance. If they are at the institute, tell them to leave immediately, no further encouragement would probably be required." Getting up from his seat, the man hobbled off towards the main doors as the rest of the High Command were left up to the rest of their respective tasks.

Further below, back at the training grounds. The sun was hitting it's peak, glaring down on the training soldiers preparing themselves for any charge they are to carry out. With the hours past, he had forced them to learn the basic Turtle shield stance, then, similarly, the hedgehog stance, the same as the turtle shield stance except sacrificing 'ultimate' protection for slits in the defence to allow shields and weapons to poke out and stab at the enemy. How was the position tested? Simple, the towering man would get his sword, going around the gleaming shell esq formation and at random, have his sword take a single, long stroke through the air in an upper-arc formation and batter the shields with the heavy blade. Where he found a key-weak spot in the formation, he would aim for that person and at times, swing more than just once against them. The massive blade forcing the weaker ones to buckle down, three, four, five swings on the same shield not only dented it but had a soldier laying on the floor, "I am just one man with a blade." he huffed, combined with his morning exercises, along with the hours presented to him of training, he was bound to have worked up a bit of a sweat. Looking down at the groaning soldier, the edge of the massive blade came falling down just under the armpit, "Had I been an enemy, I would have ripped through your chest and slaughtered your friends through here because of your _inability_" spitting the word out at the corporal. In all honesty, he probably should be pitting them up against each other, though that would leave him doing nothing. Doing nothing was not something he ever found himself doing because it was a waste of time. Technically, this was as well but orders and obligations were what they were.

After giving them a taste about a front-line typical defence and expected assault, how to take recoil and absorb some of the oncoming hit with the entire body rather than just the arm and shield (which could shatter under some cases) Also along with head-on collisions that were the general type of encounter for the battlefield. With the bell toiling, signalling for the mid-day break, sighs and gasps of joy would start coming out from the group after Ratis' harsh training. Glaring at them, "You are only to leave, after properly being dismissed. Putting equipment away in an orderly manner. You damage it, out of training, you take care of it either with proper methods or I'll use your _blood_ to do so." well, he'd be more likely to beat them with said item however. Getting the soldiers to salute, he would eye them all to make sure that they had the proper position. The golden eyes scanning their form, he would nod, "_Dismissed!_" he would shout out, watching them continue to conduct themselves in a proper manner, stowing the equipment as it should be and putting the battered shields up for repairs, he would also make his way inside, still donned in his full Noxian heavy armour. The hulking figure would proceed with his meal with little finesse but most importantly, no interruptions. Although, Even did pass on word that there was going to be some form of contest to be held. Not many details, though it was strictly a sign-up competition so that only those who believed in their strength could enter. Drawing a grin from the man, "Well, no rank, no care, simple fists and grapples probably. Doesn't make sense to have us men kill each other off. Submission or knockout." he would state, amongst the noise in the mess hall, people seemed to have been drawn to his voice, or at least his assumptions as to what it would be.

All his training was to be finally tested, so he can be put up against anyone of higher rank. '_Finally time to show the pansies that always complained about my absence their place, tch__.' _the though crossed his mind, it would be hard, though it seemed like as if something interesting was ahead of him.

"_If Strength beats strength, I'll show what raw power can do_"


	3. Chapter 2: Brewing Trouble

**Chapter 2: **Brewing Trouble

There seemed to be some mumbling going on around the entire mess hall. People grouping up to listen to what each had to say regarding the competition that seemed to be in the works. Others thought of glorious battles to the death to thin out the weak from the ranks, some suggest a renewal of _'The fleshing'_ albeit, no one would quite well sign up for something like that. Getting up, "Well, I'm signing up. I don't care what it is, a contest is a show of strength, I have not trained for years to miss out on an opportune moment such as this." he'd say, the massive room with high ceilings and arches to support the entirety of the structure were filled with small statues of muscled figures looking as if they were carrying the columns, on one side, a face looked like the man was to buckle and kneel over, while on the opposite side of the column, the face looked stern. Obviously outlining the difference between weakness and strength, there were more gruesome examples, carved out, the artwork around the almost-lavish area was, the artwork all held the same message behind it.

_Weakness causes death_

He knew this very well, his father beat the people whom tried to swindle him, though had his own fair share of blackened eyes and bad drunken brawls. Though each time, he would grin and laugh, "_Son, if you get into a fight. It's only a good one if you get a few good hits landed on yourself! Where's the fun in not having a good fight?_" while obviously sometimes would be worse than others, there was always that grin coming from him at the end of it. Leaving the mess hall, it looked like as if they were already setting up the stands for the sign-ups. Considering the amount that he passed on his way down to the training grounds again, it seemed like as if they expected the people to sign up to be high. Which is obvious considering the local mentality, some would go in obviously not expecting to win but they wanted to see how far they would get into the competition. Learn from the matches and gain experience. Hand to hand combat is not used much in the military but always very handy to know in the event one is un-armed or something happens in combat.

Though also, another side to it is that, without weapons, it is only strength and technique that matter. Not any under-handed methods, nor the better crafted weapon. It was body and mind, against another. One too strong but without technique could easily be exploited to make an opening and strike them down through that. On the other hand, one with more brain than brawn probably is not even in this military. Save for the assassins and possibly, scouts. Though for the main part of the Noxian army, it was for men such as Ratis himself, alongside with the spell casters as well. People who aspired to gain power, becoming a massive wall of human iron will or a mental book of vile incantations to ruin one's form and let them wither away in typically flashy, albeit agonizing manners. After the protein-filled meal was finished, mostly consisting of steak and potatoes, lead to being decent enough for his standards. Filling, invigorating and not utter rubbish. Actually, it was of some decent quality, probably due to rank but it was doubtful considering the mess hall was open to all people. Though the ones that did get a much nicer salary did tend to mostly have either their own catering services or restaurants. Walking down the halls, the makeshift stand for the signups was already available, the hulking figure approached the attendant, "_Name, sir?_" taking a moment to dip the quill into the ink, "Staff Sargent Ratis De Tere'nu. Sign me up for the competition." nodding, he continued off. It took a bit of time to get to the training grounds again, though with the sun still glaring down upon the world, it looked like as if the was still a good amount of time left to spare 'till it went down. Regardless, he would enter the training arena, A large amount of the soldiers standing in salute, waiting for him as if they did not have lunch at all. That or his walk to the training area was longer than he thought it would be.

* * *

A room, lit mostly by the glowing, vile liquids, small flames of Bunsen burners, modified to work on magic rather than gas, had a few knocks at the door, considering the hollow 'clack' it had to it, the owner of the room had an idea who it was. Turning the flame off and leaving his workbench, the door was opened, "_Our work, to progress to the next stage. We leave by nightfall, things are moving forward._" The duo grinned, "Probably by the looks of it, it will not just be us two though. Nonetheless, it seems like as if the Grand General is to set things in motion. Let us just play as puppets for the masquerade and attain knowledge, along with some funds." Though, as he seemed to ramble on, the only reason for the visit was to deliver the information, the other's back was turned and already in motion to leave. Letting out a sigh, "Impatient as always, no? Master Warick." the heavy metal door closed and he proceeded to gather the required materials. Placing them in compartments within the bag, excitement was bubbling within just like the days on Ionia when his..._assistance _was requested for some additional elements to be added to the warfare. Trouble was brewing, being the cause of it only seemed to heighten his will to be part of it.

* * *

By the end of the training, a man had a broken nose, another may have some _minor _damage to the trachea and a good deal of bruises. The take Ratis had on '_Teaching_' unarmed combat was for them to have a genuine one on one experience. Plus, it was a good workout for him as well, probably something he should do more often, assuming the infirmary did not give him a good telling-off for having more people to deal with than they normally do. Those who could stand up, proceeded to do so and salute, the ones who could not, were either picked up or kicked until they did so under the Sargent's orders himself. Donning the armour, having to take it off or obviously it would be impossible for him to feel any vigour of combat if he could not take up a few hits, while not on the level of a certain undead champion, the layers of muscle and amount of fights he got into reduced his ability to feel pain, the fight may have helped a bit as well with that. Considering the competition was to be held soon, he could only guess that it may have helped him train a bit for that indirectly. Leaving the building, along with several, freshly formed depressions within the ground, the sun would tint the sky in a light pink as the sun started to set down. The armour protecting from from Easterly breeze, carrying the cool, humid air that traversed over the seas on it's way. Though, being brought up in Noxus doesn't allow one to generally smell 'fresh' air, the moat surrounding the city contained the putrid liquids created by the witches, it seems to be a fairly corrosive substance as people who tossed things into it, generally stories of bored guards, seem to hold that most copper pieces tend to sizzle away. Despite that, the moat has not grown wider since his childhood, so it was questionable. His guess was that someone was more likely to die of a virulent sickness rather than simply dissolve. It held more of the style to the city to do such a thing in all fairness.

Making his way back up to the barracks, if he wanted to continue training, he'd need to make sure he doesn't catch a cold from being hot under the several layers of metal that almost seemed to comprise as his identity to some. Plus, letting it air out would do it some good, the tingling feeling of the bruises, some ready formed, others on their way. The weight of the armour did not quite help but he turned the pain into determination and energy, nothing crippling either way so he may as well make use out of it. Walking up the hill to get back to the main barracks again, this was how most days of his life were. Wake up, train, perform obligatory duties, train, sleep. Boring as this may sound, it was just about fine for the man. Except for the middle part. Though, when you live with a simple ambition with variation in the methods on how to slowly obtain it, life becomes less complicated. There is little to no worry as to 'what to do in life' or 'what to become' as for him, it was simple. _Become the strongest man, in all Noxus. _Did it mean single handedly toppling over the building the Generals was in? Not quite, it was to rise to each challenge he could meet. Best it, or be beaten by it and learn from the outcome. To create further methods of obtaining further strength and skill to be able to take down such opponents. Being aware that the body will eventually turn brittle and fail, was an ultimate end that all do eventually face. So before that happened, he would gouge out the eyes of others, stab them with blades, crush them underfoot, _anything _if it meant to reach another level of strength. Thus, he was set to stone, to show the Noxian military that his unorthodox manner of training was to simply do his quota, to carry on the tradition. With Strength being engraved into his mind, as the only way to prove one's worth, he was set on showing everyone that he was more than a Staff Sargent, that he had the ability to do more than what others thought of him.

Focusing his vision to see he had his hand on the door-knob, he sighed and turned it, pressing onward. Placing his armour upon the rack he stripped out of his clothes and left them in a pile. '_I'll take them for the laundry guys to care for when I go back down' _he thought. Indeed, one of the duties was for one to actually go through the laundry. Reasons never quite explained well, they are told to do it and if they don't, they are beaten until an agreement is made, that is generally a 'yes' from their end. Improper jobs have even harsher results for wasting resources, Ratis would dearly remember _those times_. The shower was fast, as was his need to get back to training. The copper hair dried out and left a short, ruffled mess, he would take his clothes of the day down to the cleaning section. It was impressive how the place changed between day and night, candles lit in large numbers along the halls. The impressive part was that they all had a timed spell to turn on at sundown, thus when little light was detected in cross-reference to when they turned off, the spell would trigger a natural looking flame, albeit one that did not melt the wax. The candle was there to merely make it look normal, as within, was the inscribed metal tube that had the spell within it. The amber light filled the halls, some windows left open to allow ventilation, considering how the air outside was warm enough with the encroaching Spring season on it's way, the nights were warm enough not to bother most thus allowing for a comfortable flow of air within the building. With less people on duty, some with relatives close by would go off to sleep and stay with them. Others would be out, possibly courting with potential loved ones, some getting an early night rest after eating or on guard duty. The latter most ones typically have the next morning off to make up for '_keeping a watchful eye over Noxus when the enemy is most likely to attack_'. Despite the institute of war forcing the continent into some form of peace, Noxus was still keeping a watchful eye for when the Demacians may try to infiltrate or otherwise.

There seemed to be quite some noise in the mess hall during the evening, despite there being less people. Night time was when most were off duty, thus he deuced it was people just getting excited regarding the upcoming competition to be held. He couldn't quite get the idea why people would stay going on about it, it was there, just sign up, shut up and go to it when you are called out. It was only at dinner did most ever really see him out of his armour, despite his form looking somewhat 'shrunk' in contrast to the armour he wears, the thick muscle went to show that his figure was always ready to beat someone or something and calmly get back to what he was doing with little to no care about the twitching figure. The simple fact that _he _signed up is what dissuaded some from even attempting to go for it. While encouraging others and some even hoping to go up against him, some considered the fact that he mostly did physical training to easily be taken down with quick with and nimble movements. Though, most did pretty much figure out that he did not just spin around with his arms out to wallop his opponents, a notable number figured that out earlier on today. The tables were made of thick stone, some, still managed to end up cracked after some heated arguments turned 'fun'. The benches, heavily bolted on to them ensured that they were not picked up and thrown at the worst of moments. Taking his tray and simply finding a quiet, unused table, he liked to keep interaction to a 'required only' basis. Not wanting to end up with people trying to divert his simple one-track mind of keeping up the intense training schedule. Indeed the social activities of human beings was a _requirement _of human nature. Though he generally managed to keep himself busy enough to avoid it for the most part.

Same as earlier on in the day, the meal was simple, his plate mostly just had two chicken breasts with a small salad on the side to not just have more potatoes. Being a slow-eater ensured that his journey back up to his room was not impeded by a blood-requiring stomach to simply digest the meal. It would be a waste of time and inefficient to get cramps and have to stop early merely just due to cramps and the like. Eventually the noise died down as he continued with the meal, reaching a relative silence that he was pleased with by the time he finished, finding only a few others who could not be quite so bothered as to leave and continue their banter, possibly staying until closing time or as they were tasked with cleaning the place. Regardless of which one was the correct answer, he would leave his tray at the counter, "Thanks for the food." nodding at the chef, it was the least he could do to thank him for making a good meal. "_Ya know bud, it's nice to have some people actually say that. It's my job an'all but what ever, the moon shining is probably the cause of my ramblin'. Get outta here._" he'd reply, stifling a chuckle, he would take his leave from the area.

* * *

_Clang, clang, clang_ the sounds echoing through the empty training ground. The giant sword being swung indeed with just one arm with decent swiftness and flow, despite the weight of the blade, netting in at a sliver under eight pounds, was being swung with just the right hand. Effectively training himself to eventually be able to use a shield with it, if having the indomitable armour and muscle was not enough, it seemed as if he had plans to introduce a new fighting method as well. Making full use of the momentum of his body, the iron-cast human figure, finely detailed to the point that word was that they were captured enemies, the blade would ricochet off of the figure and would pretend to spar with it as if it were an actual opponent. Keeping enough distance to constantly use the lower most part of the blade as he kept hacking away at the iron figure. From a side-swipe, the kinetic energy would induce the expected chip against the figure and the blade flying off of it to announce another strike shortly after. At first, the movements were just with the arm, though as the flow started to change his mentality to that of an actual fight, his whole body started to move. If the hulking size was not eye-catching, the fluidity of the movements were almost unnatural to see or at least, very unexpected. Arching his back and arm trailing behind to allow for an over-head swing he would take a step back, eyes never leaving the target.

"At ease, soldier."

The line would interrupt him, catching him off guard as he was in mid-swing, the momentum of the blade would be re-used to turn and sheathe the blade in a long motion. It had already been about an hour or so and the moon was allowing enough light unto the area to allow him to see who it was, unamused, yet obliging, he would nod, "Evening, Master Sargent." It only took a glance at the face to know it was his previous instructor,  
"So, are you going to tell me why I was interrupted?" the irritation restrained, just letting some seep out to let the other know the surprise was not taken kindly.  
"Well, that's a merry way to greet me!" a sarcastic outcry from the other, "Lady of Noxus you did not change from when I first looked at you. Trainin' for the _biiiig _thing everyone is going on about?" he would ask, the man in question was Nhylees Quitis, current rank, Master Sargent. Since Ratis enlisted, he's now actually managed to grow a hair taller than his previous mentor, a few scars on the face showed a mixture of a 'lively' set of nights he has had in the past along with the experience on the battlefield.  
"No, I train for my own strength. My own methods and style." he would curtly reply, the flatness was not to be unwelcoming, just wanting to get back to the previous task at hand. Though the look Ratis was giving Nhylees was no more exotic than his voice, which would drive some away yet this fellow knew how Ratis was, to a point at least.

"The infirmary were complainin' said something about a large number of small cases. _Wonder why_?" the grin on his face was met with the other rolling his eyes,  
"Honestly, if they needed 'boo-boos' to be kissed and tended to, I fear for generations to come." Sighing and shaking his head, it seemed like his training style was not too popular, then again, that was not something he was concerned about, "I am here to breed men who will crush platoons in squads, assuming this institute of war thing holds unto it's power and is not up-heaved, I know we will be up against Demacia again in full conflict. Possibly their friendly frail folk from 'the city of progress' and a side-skirmish against the barbaric beings of the north." cringing at that, he knew they were strong, albeit at the cost of having a brain. So he was brought up to believe, such scum were probably worse than what lay beneath the city with seedy folk abound during the early hours of the morning. People of Piltover were generally seen as weak, relying on their technology and other such toys to make up for what they lack. Finally, the _Demacians_ were looked at as a rule of tyranny where the people within always had ulterior motives to their actions and hidden agenda due to their code. Freedom within a harsh social oppression? That was not something he would see Noxus befall least every drop of blood be drained of him.

The ever-growing scowl on his face showed that Ratis was once again, over-thinking things, "Oi, oi, don't worry. Beat the soft skin now so arrows have harder times to puncture, no?" Nhylees would interrupt, _again_.  
"I suppose you are right. Cannot help but be in a state of concern though. Are these kids or men that actually did stop wetting the bed?" the concern was met with a bark of laughter from his company,  
"Well, if I wouldn't have heard it myself, you _can _joke! That aside, they'll 'ventually start to stop whining. The harder you beat them, the faster it'll stop no? Well, probably not for some. Though those that did have their balls drop, will just grimace and turn the pain to fuel their training more." a sagely nod from the man seemed to confirm his groundless statement.  
"Again, what is it that you wanted of me to actually stop my training?" he would ask, a bit more force put into the question, now that his muscles started to cool off, it was pretty much over for him.  
"Well, just wanted to see how my underling was doing. Concern is met with metaphorical blades eh? Pah!" dismissing him with a wave, "I was gonna invite ya to the bar but looks like you were busy. So I just thought I'd see how you were and be off, plus, you'd probably need 'nother shower and you'd be off to bed knowing your type." the sweat, mostly dried by now, was apparently evident on his being. "You never come down much and when you do, just keep your trap shut and listen. You know, the rule 'Speak when spoken to' is generally just a thing when the fancy folk are around ye?" he would frown at Ratis, cycling a shoulder to loosen it up from the day's work.  
"You are correct, I was just going to be off and slip into bed. I am not willing to risk making connections that can not only just be severed by the person but put to use to shock me with their end of the wire. I do not keep most at arm's length, because they can twist my wrist. I keep them at _blade's _length to make sure that if they get too close for my liking, they better start being careful what they do." he would explain, it was logical, in one's own perspective. The reply lead to Nhylees to shake his head, "When you get old and frail, you wont' have the joy of life no more, best enjoy it when you don't have a wailing lump of meat and nailed down to only one pair of tits boy." he'd jab at the shoulder, though Ratis remained unmoving, "I'd say you have some good traits to pass on, make your parents happy eh? If you get shipped off, I'm sure they'll be only too happy to take care of your youngling." the topic was pressed on, he had already technically passed the age of '_becoming a man_' a number of years back. Though not much interest towards the opposing gender was raised to his awareness.  
"That is something for me to decide on, I cannot have anything risked, I refuse to claim anything as mine if I cannot protect it." the reply would finally come, "Only when my presence inspires fear into any potential enemy, when my power is stable and I have attained anything worth keeping, will I seek out others. Noxus is one fast to make enemies for any reason, last thing I need is to return home to find a dead woman and child because I was not there or made a mistake." the tone, grim and heavy, "While if I was not courted, they could still be alive and happy. That is all."

With those words said, he would walk off. His position stiff as was his stride, despite his strength, his ambition was a requirement yet to be partially fulfilled before he was anywhere near satisfied. Even if he could single handedly snap all the bones of another's body with overwhelming ease, he would still need to know how he would not break mentally from having to endure such a suffering as a lost loved one like that.

Eventually reaching his chambers, the clothes were tossed unto the ground and windows locked, barred shut as well as the door. People can pick locks, though not one-sided steel bolts. Relaxing in his bed, it was a while since he last saw the man, did not seem like any particular reason to bring such a topic up and admittedly, there were some that did cross his mind, yet anything more than a thought was against his being. Focusing on courtship would derail him from training, which was a deterring thing as that would make him _weak_. Sleep was quick to coax the man into his only time of relaxation, a day anew would come and nothing would change.

_For now_


	4. Chapter 3: Battle Royal

**Chapter 3: **Battle Royal

A week had passed by since the sign ups had started, the quota filled and closed within the next day. Thanking the Lady of Noxus that he not only did sign up but had the stand not too far away was something that brought an additional benefit for him. Mostly the fact that it did not take anything out of his intensive training schedule to actually do so as well was a good point in his books. With the competition to be held today, the man did forsake some of his morning routine to ensure that if he was called up, that he would be in his best position. The only thing he did do was just the morning jog, getting warmed up was the general idea thus for one of the few times since he had considered his training regime, a number of people would see him _without _his armour. Considering his pose, breathing and most importantly, timing, there were little few that would be doing the same as this man did, thus a few more eyes did scan him on his run down.  
Though considering how long he has been doing this for, none were really surprised to see just how massive he had grown through the years in terms of sheer muscular bulk. Those that did not know how hard he trained would probably call out on suspicion of magical interference, to enhance him. Though, such a craft was unknown to most wizards and Ratis would most likely have better things to spend said money on rather than underhanded methods with potential drawbacks to them.

Despite his mind flaying him for only doing so little, in contrast to the actual, regular training he typically performs. The man would simply wander the barracks, it was still mid-morning and the competition was to be held later on, the signal for people to start gathering was the barracks lifting the flag with the Noxian crest on it. Subtle but at least there was not a major fan fare which would have just been silly. Considering the amount of people ready and willing to partake in the fight, word would easily start to spread and leave en masse. The only issue he had was, that his lack of action lead him to start thinking about the words spoken to him, courtship? _Friends?_ Such notions seemed, were silly to him. All he needed was the ability to crack a jaw with a single blow and crush the trachea in another.  
Was that not what the Noxian culture was about? Simply rise up and dominate, rise to a challenge, fight your way up until you can not do so any further. Eventually, one must also do the reverse, they have to keep their position and not lose to the challenger. This leads to most people not being brought in and simply obtaining rank through _Blue blood_ but through their own will, power and ability. Respect did not come with being born with it, it came by beating it out of people who would sneer at you.

"Psh, the need of a woman is merely to produce and bring a strong child of Noxus anyway. I have a number of years left for something like that." he would mumble, shaking his head of the train of thought that had been running around in his mind. The man found himself at the outer-edge of the barracks. Normally, at dusk or night, some troop would bring their lovers here, apparently having one of the best semi-public views in all of Noxus. The best being told by some whom were requested to the Grand General that allowed one to see the outer half of Noxus from just one balcony, part of the rumor was also that the stench of the moat did not go so high, thus allowing for fresh air to come in great supply to the more privileged few within the ranks. While the moat did keep enough of the gas down within it, the wafting warmer airs did allow it to seep into the nose of the general public. While most had gotten used to it, it would be nice to not have to worry about it ever again at all. His hand, going out to curl around the tattered stone railing, it was going to hold for years to come, assuming no one was kicked through it though. The large number of bustling people could be seen from this point alone, at least for those whom were above ground.  
At times, it was a bit hard to consider that this land had, possibly, the best army on the continent. The Demacians at their heels, obviously, thus not allowing for much rest in terms of potential warfare development and innovation. Thankfully, not many fumes coated the sky, mostly that of bakers, blacksmiths and workers from the port burning refuse from ships that docked but had rotten supplies. allowing for the gentle Spring breeze to allow a warm, southerly wind to wash over the city. A series of joyous cries and mobile people caught his curiosity. "_The flag's up! Let's hurry least they call out one of the guys we know._" a voice said behind him. With two fellows walking along each other, breaking out into a jog, Ratis sighed and made his way to the training grounds.

Looking at them from a distance, he could not quite even recognize the area, as it was never in all his life (or memory) ever so populated. The open fields would make it ideal for such an event, a small, yet notable area that held the only seats within visual range were most likely for any VIP's that decided to turn up. The seats, containing the typical green and gold colours of Noxus looked tempting enough even for Ratis to picture himself on one. Not imagining instead of _someone_ as such things would be possibly borderline treason, least he managed it through legitimate means. The crowd seemed to be divided, with himself on the wrong side. Looking at all the common folk and soldiers that comprised of the onlookers, he would shuffle his way through them and unto the other side. While there was no actual 'stage' for the fighting to take place, there were multiple guards keeping a wide circle between the people and the eventual contenders. Budding grass was all that protected one from the solid earth under, thus fights would allow each person to feel the full force and have little to no support if such a thing were to happen. It was pretty rushed-looking seeing how seriously Noxus takes matters of Strength though.  
Yet no one really seemed to complain and for the most part people would just enjoy the fact that there was going to be a show that they expected, to be on several layers of epic considering that there were a number of people inclined to training on the Noxian manner of martial arts. It was simple, yet effective. Cripple enemies and rend them unable to fight back. Some masters of the art have been known to even cause Hydrostatic shock. Effectively, applying such a harsh amount of pressure that the water within the tissues of the muscles destroys the surrounding cells thus causing potential crippling or even death if hit on the neck or head. Yet such stories were merely stories, he was never one to quite believe something until he saw it or it was just seemingly obvious.

Only a few minutes after he got into his presumed place, did the Grand General show himself. A loud series of cheers and applause welcomed him, Ratis merely clapped out of pure obligation. He did not lack any form of respect towards the man who bested the opposing General. Though the manner as to _how _was something that did cross his mind. A tactician, yes, though if what he heard was true, that he actually _vanished _and came back again moments later, it was hard to believe. He did not see his fighting capabilities though, thus he left it open. Standing on the podium where the seats were, Swain would raise his hands to silence the crowd, "My fellow Noxians. Excuse my belated appearance!" he would call out to them, "I had intended on returning sooner, yet, the Institute always finds ways of making one late for appointments." the charismatic speech would proceed, outlining that this was solely a 'friendly' event, something to let each Noxian show their own potential. The rules were simple, fists and feet only, no outright murder. A win is gained only through forced submission of the opponent or a knock-out lasting ten seconds.  
Ratis, while he was listening, he was looking more at the man speaking himself, he held an unsettling look in his eye. It was not something a person could look up to and simply say, '_I wanna be like him!' _but then again, wishing to be the tactician whom killed his own soldiers and enemies in a chemical bombardment and strives not to only keep the ways of Noxus within the city-state but looks for any means to spread it, is bound to be someone unsettling to look at, let alone deal with.

"The draws were selected prior to my arrival. Thus, the first two are, Ratis De'Terenu against Yules Rokvit. Place yourself within the ring." he would command, sitting down. Ratis would push his way through the blocking people, nodding at the guard, he would pass and face Swain. Moments after, a similar looking fellow would also do the same. Looking at his opponent, the man was not too much of a threat based off of looks alone. Though the scars lining his face and arms were impressive, he would not ask where he got them from, though it seemed like as if fighting was quite the part of activities that he partook in. Standing at shoulder-height of Ratis, the flat, black hair would trail down to a compact forehead, thin eyebrows and hazelnut eyes. A soft jawline but visibly jagged, evidently his face has been beaten around a number of times. Wearing no armour, simply casual looking dark green top and trousers, they both were dressed to allow no inhibition in their movements. He would think a bit more highly of the enemy, _had he not the stench of alcohol._

After bowing to swain, Ratis would simply use his heels to turn himself to his opponent. "_Start!_" Taking a quick hop back, Ratis would ease out the tension within the air around him. His muscles becoming more loose fluid, the noise drowning out as he focused only on his enemy. Achieving a mental state where he sees the man ahead of him as nothing more than an _enemy_. That is all that mattered to him. Thus, he would start to take his own stride back on towards him. His movements had purpose, reason, that was to complete a final objective. _Defeat the weak_. Seeing Ratis close the gap, his opponent took up stance, as expected. This is where Ratis thanked himself for taking it upon him for coming up with his own means and methods of beating others into the earth, rather than go by the book. The other's fist came flying at his face, leaning his body to the left, the opposite shoulder took the impact and in retaliation, his right hand would grasp over the elbow, leaving the side exposed to allow him to follow through with a palm-strike to the kidneys. Obviously, this left his own side open, to which the other had tried to simply pummel away at his ribs. Enduring it, as he knew proceeding with his plan would secure a win, he forced his mind to numb out the pain. If anything, the added strikes were merely adding to his focus. Transforming the pain and irritation into further, solid, determination, there was nothing the other would do to distract the man.  
A tug on the arm twisted the other to the side, letting Ratis slip further to the flank.  
An unexpected pull downwards caught the opponent off guard as even Ratis himself went low for a moment, only to leap up and drive his knee into the side yet again, being kept from turning around with the constant flow of movements. While in mid air, the left arm would raise to the fullest and upon landing, drive the elbow to the top of the man's skull. In the moment that it was forced down, the massive arm wrapped around the back of the neck, secured in the crook of the arm and the other hand pushing up on the arm to further tighten the hold. Bearing his weight down on the bent man, the will to stay up was irritating him, thus he reversed his movement, heaving him up, despite the size, for a moment to be able to get his feet off of the ground, now the body just about horizontal in the air, Ratis would drop down to the side, allowing his own bulk of the ribs to crash down on his opponent's face. Resting all his weight into the fall, there was a silencing _crack_. Silence struck the crowd, even the Grand General himself arched a brow. Yet, Ratis proceeded on, knowing full well what he had done was not _fatal_. He merely shattered the jaw with his strength. Thus, he would continue by taking advantage of that opening, standing up and grabbing the right arm, he would see the bones jotting about and poking at the skin under the cheek and jawline, with a stern face, his heel rose up, eyes watering from the shock of the impact, let alone the fact that there was more to come seemed to be enough trauma for the man. "_GIEF!" _the foot slammed down on it, _crack_. The loose fragments of bone now also broken off and the ones already off, shattered further.

Seeing that the man was alive, the crowd cheered at the obvious winner. Some additional people came to take Yules onto a stretcher and pull him off, "Well, Ratis De Tere'nu, an impressive show of strength and determination to carry out your actions despite the blows you were taking." Swain would point out, bemused that the pain still held no reaction, the expression was blank and cold for the fight. Breathing was an irritating task but it must be done, "Had I not followed through, Victory may not have been mine." he stated, "I take your words to heart, sir." bowing to him, he would turn to leave.

"Wait, who said we were done yet?", if the cloth was not covering his face, one would easily view the gargantuan smile on his face."There is more still to come, do not think for a moment that you only have _one _fight? This competition is a test of your strength!" once again, resorting to a theatrical tone, Ratis would keep his stony expression, turning to Swain, "Then I have only one additional thing to say, Sir Grand General."

"_Next!_"


	5. Chapter 4: The man declared dead

**Chapter 4:** The man declared Dead

Raising his arms in the air, the Grand General would proceed to beckon the next contender, this was getting a bit serious for him now. Bruised chest was heaving as he scanned the area, looking for the next face that was to challenge his strength. His previous reply unto Swain had set the crowd off, he did not ask for a break nor did he try to skitter off. Despite the theatrics, he could not quite help but think that this was an odd form of competition really. It seemed like as if this was a minor incarnation of the fleshing. Though that was dissolved, plus this area was too make-shift to replace it in any way. Bringing his hands together not far off from his chest. Eyes closed as he kept up his concentration, after a few moments, he would raise his right leg, slam his foot into the ground. Causing faint crack from the ground under, eyes snapping open, he looked upon his next opponent.

The face was unmistakable, despite the greying beard, there were some slight changes to the overall look of the body. A former mentor, aside from Nhylees he was the close quarters combat master. Frances Quint, the only man that Ratis could look at eye level without having to tilt his head down a bit towards. The body was old, though those eyes carried more battles to them than most others around here, "I knew you'd be signing up. So I wanted to see how my student has done." croaked the older man. It was strange, to be honest, he did not quite wish to bring harm to the one in front of him, though in order for him to continue progressing, he will simply have to try and not physically disable him, much like the one of his previous match up. Though if anything does happen, he would not regret it. He would have to force himself to continue, as in order to live, he would have to gain power. That can only be proven by winning this competition while inspiring fear into others whom dare not challenge him later on in life.

"_Fight_"

Considering that he was up against one of the people that had the greatest combat experience in regards to training, Ratis had to expect the unexpected. Seeing the style change, it would be easy to be thrown off balance if Quint was to change, making him less predictable. Thus, he would just have to be as sporadic in his movements as well. Diving forward, he would proceed to roll and once his feet touched the ground again, he would spring up using his toes to push him off and start the fight with a high leap into the air, left leg curled behind him and right leg out as if he was about to simply rely on his sheer momentum to strike at the chest. This was countered with a hand going out to snag the foot. In return, he had retracted the right leg and twisted his body to the side, the left leg uncurling and following through. He would be side-stepped but not without the arm taking the hit instead of the neck. The right foot would take the brunt of the landing impact, bending the knee and twirling to face his opponent. The left-over momentum caused him to slide for a bit on the ground thus keeping the distance between them. Most others would have fallen for the feint and had their spine slightly damaged.

His efforts were rewarded with a grin from his opponent, heavy attacks were to be countered with ease by this one, so he would have to whittle him down and try to get him into any blood lock* he might manage. Taking a few steps forward, the two would be in close enough range for the actual fight to start, both not taking up any position, looking more as if they were going to walk past each other. Baiting one another into throwing the punch, shooting out a quick jab to the gut, Ratis had caught it but the sheer wall of muscle did not even let it sink in. Using his left hand to catch the hand before it could be retracted, he would swerve to the left. Caught mid-way with a trying to trip him, it would be countered with a knee to the gut from Ratis. Stomping his foot to the ground, he would follow with another and a third. The neck on Quint was thick enough to be able to be able to tell the muscle from the tendon. Thus, a quick chop with his free hand met the muscle. Quint meanwhile seemed to ignore the hit, though a scoff was heard showing that it had some impact. Ratis found his right leg unable to be moved, grunting as he saw that Quint had wrapped his legs around it during his previous attack, the intent was for Ratis to be on his back.

He was not about to let that happen.

Kicking off his left foot so all the weight of both men would be on his right, he would use the sheer weight to turn around and force Quint to take the brunt of the fall. Grunting as the impact hit, still clutching to the arm, he would take up position by mounting on the chest forcing the captured arm under his knee, pinning it at the elbow, he would simply use both of his free arms to lean in and put pressure on the neck. Feeling the knees reaching up and trying to push Ratis off, this was countered by simply pressing more weight unto the other's neck, making such a form of action front Quint to be undesirable to continue. Thus instead, he had taken advantage of the free sides with both arms applying the pressure, there were a few punches to the exposed sides. Though the fading strength was becoming obvious from the fact that it only hurt a slight, considering that the other has had most of the weight of the large man pressing down on the neck, he could have gone further but that would have started to put Quint in potential danger for a collapse within the trachea. Wheezing, the hand would try to grasp as the exposed flesh and squeeze but the golden eyes remained focused. There was a fire within them that would be impossible to extinguish, Ratis knew he had a future ahead of this place. To be seated near Swain, if not replace him eventually. Years of practice, mind and body, allowed him to start showing that to be a true Noxian, one must dedicate themselves entirely to what they aim to be. Ratis only aimed to be the best, nothing less. What better challenge would there be other than eventually facing off against Swain and being declared victor?

Three thuds on the floor with the right foot was his only way of being able to 'tap out' to which Ratis stood up, coughing and sputtering. Quint was offered a hand up, perhaps the kindest action he has performed since the start of the match, "You had me thinking what to do. Though it seemed like that was a badly executed trip, _master_." Ratis would grin, putting teasing emphasis on the last word. Despite Quint's face being rather red from the increase of blood pressure, with all that was being done to the neck and all, "Well, ain't it a master's dream to see his student be ahead of him? Means I thought you well." Slapping his shoulder, "Now then, lemme see you go somewhere." turning around and going back into the crowd, "Your eyes have a flair many don't, if you fuck up, I'll pound your ass to the ground and beat it raw boy, got it?"this earned another grin from Ratis, whom was given a wave in return. It was evident that Quint wanted to see just how far Ratis had managed with his training. Pleased with the end result. He had no fear that Ratis was bound for something good. If anyone were to question his potential, the would get the most violent beating for even insinuating that some of the filth here could contend against a man who evidently, was to be the next poster child of Noxus since the apparent _death_ of the previous one in glorious battle on the country of Iona.  
Turning back to Swain, Ratis gave him a grin, he was confident that while it would get harder, that he was to be the winner, "Sir Grand General Jericho Swain, if you may produce another enemy for me?" bowing as he made the request. The older man's eyes seemed to gleam with anticipation, the man, the _subject_ he had been looking for was right at his feet. Presenting a hand to Ratis, "As you request my fair soldier!" standing up, "Who dares to face off against the man whom had taken three, one well known amongst us? If you wish to test your strength, courage and might, I _personally _invite you to step closer to our current champion." the crowd going silent, wondering if there was anyone else.  
"_I will, sir!_" came out a single voice, the sound of it caused Ratis' eyes to widen and freeze. '_No, it isn't...'_ was all he could think. The face he had met with a week ago was standing in front of him. The expression on Ratis further amused Swain, clapping his hands and sitting down, followed by cheering of the crowd, Nhylees stepped forward, "In battle, m'boy. In life in general, you'll have to fight against those you'd rather not." he'd state, "I know you, hold back and you'll regret it kiddo. You've got enough muscle to stop a volly of arrows, rest assured. Though your heart is too big, or so I think." the people around them becoming silent, this was not a tournament match between two people whom did not know nor care for each other. It was one friend testing another, "To get what you want, you'll have to step on the bodies of thousands of souls. If you stumble over mine, I'll grab yer leg and fuck you up good." taking up position. The very reason why Ratis did not wish to know people was just lain out on the table, it was hard to not have a connection with a mentor that picks you up from your first days in the training camp and carries you on over into greatness. "Gentlemen, if your conversation is up, shall we proceed?" reaching new heights of amusement, Swain sat down and a simple gesture of a hand would signal for them to start yet again.

* * *

_Several hours ago_

A trio of figures appeared at the gates, one's nose twitching and sneezing, "_Always when I come here. The stench is too strong on this damned bridge._" he would mutter, "No worries, my friend. We took this point of entry so not only are we with the wind to our backs, though it leads right up the main tower to get to higher ground faster." came a deep, honey laced voice of what was fitting to be a pure, noble ranking gentleman. Quite the contrast to the gruff, deep and rather irritable voice of the one who previously spoke. Summed up easily as monstrous, much was his appearance as well. The third one that joined them, "Let us simply just get this done no? I shall perform the surgery, you two come up with the required concoctions to keep whomever we have to perform this miserable act upon, take our payment and leave. We've spent years working on this project, do not stall nor make a mistake. Let us simply get this done, I have more research to do back in Zuan." he would mumble, a heavy coat covering most of his features and face covered with a dual-respirator piece of a gasmask. Missing the visor on it, it was enhanced to filter through any potentially harmful or unpleasant particles within the air. The eyes were a solid green iris but constantly dilated pupil seemed to show some sensitivity towards any form of light. Slightly naturally spiked black hair combed back, they had gone to the heavily guarded gate, only with a single glance did the guards raise it. Being previously informed that three important _guests_ were to eventually land within the city states. Two were revered champions of the Institute of war, the third however, was not as well known but still notorious for his previous works, one of which was the reincarnated headsman of Noxus.

The climb up the stairs was a fairly long one, yet nothing that they have not been through before. Taking the stairwell straight up to the connecting platform which leads relatively close towards the General's area at the top of the mountain, they would eventually come to meet with the ones whom were not interested in the fight, some excited to see what the scientists from Zuan had produced for them. They went into the board room, normally it would be used for when the Grand General would host a meeting but this case was an exception. Everything had been planned and as if to ensure that it was to go as such, Beatrice had kept it's gaze upon them all during the meeting.  
"It is always a pleasure to see the great men of Zuan come by with such daring projects." one of the Generals would declare, a middle aged man with a greying moustache, thick and burly, he was General "Brom Kasht", while having no mind for the acts of mages, what men of these minds managed always seemed to fill him with quite the sense of giddiness, "Sir Warwick, Singed and an additional guest, Mr Pididly? We are pleased to see your acceptance for the project. Please, do show us all what you three have prepared? The _filtering _process is going smoothly to find the best subject we can offer." with fatherly care, Singed had placed a compartment-laced bag onto the table, shuffling through it, there would be a dull energy emanating from a glass container with a slowly spinning stone within. "Gentlemen, I hereby wish to show you, the Nexus fragment." placing it with a gentle touch to the table. The power was saturating and radiating the air already. Despite the demunitive physical presence it had, merely the length of a few fingers with slightly narrow width to match. Despite that, the power was notable that it had contained within, "In order to prevent any faulting after so long. I suggest no one touch it, the container is fragile and we need not any contamination." the deep voice would lecture to them, "The war within that little town did not go without gain for us, gentlemen. As this is the fruit of our labour. Since most do get bored with the operational procedure, I shall not quite go into that. All I request is, now that we have shown conceptual proof of our work, to be shown the laboratory we shall operate within."  
The request was heeded with a nod, personally taking them through the hallways, the Nexus fragment would be taken as they were lead to the laboratory. The only one within the entire Noxian state, reserved just for their use. A sign to show their friendship in one manner between the two city-states. A multitude of candles lit the area as if it was daylight, much like the others in the general area, the wax would never actually melt thus no fear of dripping wax or failing light was to become the others at any point in time. "I shall leave you three to get ready. Try and keep things quiet, lock the door after we get the subject here. We don't need anyone knowing what's going on here." he would close the door and leave them to set up.

* * *

_Later_

He forgot how many fights he had gone through during the day. After Nhylees had also fallen to him, Ratis was covered in bruises, a few strained muscles for sure as they bulged slightly more than they should have. Arms scraped, cut and further bruised along with his torso. Welts forming on the abdominal area as well, along with the legs as they had their fair share of a beating. Again, his face would merely return to meet Swain's own, still giving him the stony, stoic look as he had from the start. Swain had stood, "It is obvious that we have a winner here, today." the people going silent at his words, "A man that had fought valiantly, showed that strength beats strength, a true man of Noxus." motioning towards the granite hill, "About to fall many a time, yet, regardless of position, regardless of pain, he would show his strength in determination that instils fear into the enemy. Brutal force meeting his opposition, is what each of you require if you wish to become a great person within this state. Take from his example! Take from his knowledge and instil it into your own mind, body. Make yourself stronger, as he has trained for war, as should any and all of you!" almost criminalizing them, "If you are not building your strength, mind or body, in whatever moment you can, you are _wasting _your life!" hissing the last few words at them, "If I were to ask a man to help me in a battle, I know who I would look for, the one whom has proven that his strength can take on many a man and stand afterwards with head in the air and shoulders straight. Let today be a lesson unto you all, those whom have lost, take no sadness or bitterness, take it that you are _weak_ and let it be your drive to become stronger!" His hands going down to the sides, he would start to make his way and crowds dispersing. It was questionable what the prize was, honestly. Not being given it on the spot, no rank of promotion. Nothing? Dumbfounded, a guard and bumped Ratis, hand curled up looking at him, opening his own, the guard would drop it in and walk off. Looking at it, it said the following,

"_We shall discuss your winnings within the General's meeting room. I shall see you then, right now." - Swain_

Unable to read it a second time as the ink vanished afterwards, he would look up to it again with an arched brow. Tossing it away, he would make his way up. His bruised form trudging the way up, it was far more painful than when he was in the full armour. A laborious task, breathing, moving. Combining these together on a slope, was the challenge. Going through the grand double doors, he would make his way on further into the compound. It was far more lavishly decorated than the barracks, carpeting on the floors covering every inch. Windows allowing sunlight and thicker walls to keep cooler air in during summer and the cold out during winter. Tapestries made of thick silk, able to be double layered to black out the window for any reason. A guard would nod at him, beckoning Ratis to follow. Doing so silently, he would eventually come to meet swain past another set of double doors. Sitting on his seat, eyes attaining a sinister yet intelligent sparkle to them once more. Not sure if it was something to be concerned about, "I was summoned, sir?" the doors closing afterwards, the talk would start.

"Ratis De Tere'nu, my personal observation of the championship concluded that you are an astounding man within Noxus. Now, with every Noxian's dream, I shall give you the chance to obtain strength like no one else on Valoran, possibly that of all Runeterra!" this earned him an arched brow, if such were possible, why not take it yourself? "We have a procedure that, if you go through with it, are the most likely person to show the best results. We have even brought the mighty minds of Zuan to produce something which will lead you to gain power, rank and glory for Noxus. You shall be able to stamp out the Yordle city of those pesky midgets if they irritate you so, we would even be able to best the Demacians with a two to one odd against us, assuming you shall be by our side in that battle." he would pause for a moment, Ratis was being offered what he had trained for, what he has willed for the past number of years, "Possibly, you may even eventually turn into my successor as well." those last words being said with added weight to them, the generals mumbling to each other. All part of the Ruse, even the Generals had a stake in this, if he did go through with it, they may have someone easier to manipulate other than Swain, assuming he was eventually bested. Along the fact that Darius may possibly fall with him, thus creating an additional space for them to move up into. None had voiced it, though it was still there in their minds.

Ratis had a mixed reaction out of all of this, saying No would be..._stupid. _It would suggest lack of courage, fear. It would be going against everything a Noxian wants, so why would he say no? Questions such as _why didn't you take it then?_ Though such a thing would be abhorrently rude to ask, though if he can rise to such a position with such ease. Was there really a question to it? Looking at all the generals, they returned a stern gaze, "If it is for Noxus, if it is to make our enemies fall. Then yes, I shall partake in it." he decided. Cheering and claps going round, "Right, with that, you are to proceed. The guards outside shall take you." Swain declared, "Dismissed, everyone." the Generals staying back and talking amongst themselves as Swain left, he had been in Noxus long enough, the Institute may start to arch a brow at Swain's long-gone 'business related issues' back home. Thus he would go to his room, the transporter taking him to the chambers within the institute.  
"Ah, so you are here, Jericho." came a soft feminine voice, "Looking at you, I would say that everything happened to go well?" limping to his thick leather chair, he would simply recline in it, "Just as planned, Emillia." sighing, he would finally relax.

Meanwhile, Ratis was taken into the operating laboratory met with three faces, two well know, the third, not as much. Though still notorious within Noxus. Taken and strapped in, the procedure was started on the Man's body.

* * *

The next day, there was an uproar. The guards had taken the last man Ratis had faced up against in the challenge. Standing at the executioner's platform, a familiar face with a handlebar moustache and brown hair, spinning his axes with a massive grin on his own small podium. "This man! Has been driven to a bitter act of murdering the champion! Ratis De Tere'nu of the fight merely one day ago! He was in the process of burning the body as we had found him." stood one of the guards in heavy green and golden armour, the colours of Noxus. His voice booming over the crowd's hissing and boo's, "For that, we are to entertain you with his death, performed by none other than Draven! The glorious executioner." with that, the bound man would be kicked off of the stage into the gauntlet pit. Due to his landing on the shoulder on the stone floor, Draven looked down upon him, smiling, "You better get running toots." he'd beckon to the exit. Only a hundred meters away. Though laced with spikes, barbed wire. A series of magic to induce anomalies, little sparks that are attracted to high amounts of carbon dioxide, like that produced by a running, desperate man. Coat him and induce high voltage shock. Others were globs of water that force themselves into the lungs and absorb the water from them, allowing them to crack and bleed internally. Amongst the fact that Draven would be throwing his axes at them.

Though if his bound hands were not already a disadvantage, the fact that he shattered his shoulder from the impact would take a bit of time to get him to stand up. Though, too long for Draven's attention span to care for, thus had tossed one of the axes at him. Aimed at the arm to shatter the bone, it did just that with ease. Still keeping the momentum and returning to Draven, "I said, _hurry up toots." _he would warn, the shit-eating-grin growing ever the wider despite the threat.

Eventually, the gauntlet claimed another life, triggering a spike trap that sent him tumbling into a water-anomaly, the crowd watched in pure euphoria as they saw the man sputter blood and continue his way out. Feeling the lungs dry up, burning, unable to properly do their job and have a number of capillaries burst within and fill the lungs with blood. It was only a matter of time before he died of a mixture of drowning due to the blood filling the lungs to the point of bursting under their shrivelled form and asphyxiation.

* * *

On their way back to the league, with the Doctor Stanwick taking his way back to Zuan, "Well, that was an interesting experiment, my friend Warwick, I doubt Swain would care much if we just popped back to the institute through the transporter he has no?" earning a grin from his furred friend, "_After all this? I think we should have every right to use it! With all that blood, it took a good amount of restraint to stop me from preying upon him." _he would reply. Earning a pat on the shoulder, they too would return to the institute.  
"I guessed you two would do this, so might I ask, how is our new Ion?" Swain asked, turning his chair to them, "He is just fine, my good sir. I hope all goes well for you." bowing momentarily before the duo left.

* * *

"_Revenge is best served cold, I shall bide my time and give it to them frozen"_


	6. Chapter 5: Crystallization of Will

**Chapter 5: **Crystallization of Will

Ragged breaths took their toll on Ratis, each step was a struggle and his momentum was the only thing that kept him from going. The gruelling task of getting up to the board room was already driving him to the edge, the only worse thing was trying to keep his composure during the entire time. He merely followed the guard that walked ahead of him by a meter. The surroundings a blur as if he had an overdose, it was the weariness assailing his mind. Dehydration, fatigue and ignored pain welling up and battering his senses. Each breath strained him further, each movement letting him feel the knotted muscles straining to keep his sheer weight and size from toppling over. He did not quite know where he was going or the route, it had slipped his mind. What was he doing here and not having his wounds tended to? Why was he taking a stroll in the hall that greater men stood and tended to their business to on a daily basis?

_"If it is for Noxus, if it is to make our enemies fall. Then yes, I shall partake in it."_

Those words came back to him, '_Ah yes, I had accepted to help Noxus further than I could with just my own strength._' Though in this land, where nothing was free, would such a thing be 'paid off' so to speak simply by winning a constant row of opponents? It was not like as if they had managed to take over Ionia thanks to his own actions nor have Demacia fall, _just yet _anyway. Five years of training finally got the recognition he believed was deserved? It was strange, though he would soon find himself in a new room. His dulled senses did not quite let him take in what was going on, thus upon seeing the three figures, his eyes were blurred a bit, though he could have sworn that one of them was a man whom had taken part in the Ionian invasion, another one fairly well known and praised to be the one whom led the project to bring back Urgot. It was odd to meet them all, the last..._thing_ that was a bipedal wolf seemed to be the strangest out of them all honestly. "Oh, I suppose this is the person that we were told about. Hup-too, we have work to do!" Singed merrily stated, the excitement in his voice bubbling like the brewed potion he had on the side. Though his figure may make it hard to perform the operation, perhaps increase the duration of it, though regardless they would perform it. It was a rarity to have a subject of such muscular figure, his condition lamentable at worst but still _adequate _for their purpose.

* * *

Rolling onto the table, Ratis would finally get to relax. Letting out a sigh, the cold metal 'bed' was more than enough for his tired body. Though little did he know that it was not to be as simple as they had made it seem. Fetching a bottle, "Here, a drink first. We need you to stay relaxed, but awake." the voice obviously belonging to Singed chimed in his ears, a vile turquoise brew was quickly slipped into his mouth, needless to say the taste was horrendous. Though nothing worse than the mess hall on a bad day looking at it in hindsight, that is probably how he managed to not gag. Along with the fact that the welts would have triggered another sense of pain enough to send him into a state of nausea. He would feel his form slump into the metal bench, the sterile smell invading his nose now that he was unable to pay much attention to his muscles, though despite his motor functions being temporarily disabled, his sensory neurons were letting him know he was still able to feel everything with the ebbing pain all along his front. The three surrounded him prepared their required items and got to work. A strange liquid was poured over the arm, "Disinfectant, right, next step to create the first cut and proceed on. Drain excess fluid and proceed on..." Doctor Stanwick would mumble, it seemed like as if he was performing the operation alone, while Warwick and singed went off to perpare on the main item. The fragment.

Being cut, is never a nice feeling. When drowsy from a day of fighting it is little more than an irritation. He would wince, though all he could do was _breathe_ and endure. Though, as the process went on, it did not get any better. The pain only intensified as they started to go deeper into the arm. It was not that they were just making a deeper, secondary cut. They were also _removing _the muscle, the years he had spent were being removed from that arm, _by the chunck. _His entire body was screaming in pain, his mind was raging and wanted to turn around and punch the surgeon in the face. Then proceed to dismantle _his _body and use that as an additional trophy. Though with the forearm missing a good amount of muscle from the centre, they finally brought the nexus fragment. Surprisingly, the room was entirely clean, though there seemed to be a small floating ball of peculiar construction that seemed to be taking all the excess blood and filtering it, then placing it back into his body as to not quite require any blood transfusion nor the '_Crimson_ _Reaper_' of Noxus to attend this. He wanted to scream, the pain was perhaps the worst he had felt since the day he was born, growling heard in the background was that of Warwick, smelling such an open wound would indeed dabble with the mind of one whom was a manhunter after all.

"Calm now, Warwick, this is where we come in as well." Singed would warn, his tone dreadfully heavy, it was obvious they knew the risks of failure that came with the operation and most likely, Swain's disappointment would not go unnoticed. Thus, the operation would reach the main stage. The crystal fragment would handled with glass apparatus, as if not wishing for it to be contaminated by anything, it would soon be directly inserted into the would. The reasoning as to why it was trapped within the apparatus becoming apparent as it instantly merged with the muscle it touched. If he could, he would curl up and just want the world to melt away. First the removal of the muscle leaving his left arm looking minute and deformed next to the rest of his frame. The years spent building it up were just sliced off and removed, to make it worse, was only from the top-side thus leaving the lowermost part of the arm looking like the other. At least it would be easier to cover up. Though through his mind, he started to realize. These details weren't told to him. He was not told about _any _of this. Yes, he wanted strength. Though he never thought that the Grand General, not only but even the rest of the Generals would not even bat an eyelid to help him. They all had agreed, the winner would be subjected to a 'reward' such as this? If he could not properly use his arm after this, what would happen? Most likely be disposed, simply because of a fault on their end.

Though he was not simply going to let himself be seen as a failed experiment, all that he has achieved be reduced to ashes. He was going to get Swain for the deceit, the Generals for their meagre compliance and not jumping to the operation themselves. The will to live burned through him, despite the fading heartbeat. Mostly as his body was undergoing a level of shock from the amount of muscle taken off, along with the pain wrecking his tired frame. All he could do was lay and wait.

* * *

With the operation completed, he was reeled off within the darker sides of the compound. Still given a view with some windows but things did not get better. Looking at the bandages on the arm, it was hard to not notice the difference between the two. Though, the pulsing presence was easily noted. It was unsettling to have such a _different _presence about. Though as he lived through the process, healers and doctors, picked by Swain himself, would be the only ones to see Ratis. Ensuring nothing happened post-operation along with healing his previous injuries so that his training may go without issue. Being doted upon was not going to quell the fact that he had spent hours under the constant burn of pain along with the fact that it was obviously an untested experiment as it was his will that was the only thing that pulled him through to the end. Feeling the energy pulse through him, he would indeed need to know what has changed in him. Alongside with how to control it, he will eventually have to get back towards the people in the higher command of Noxus, though without involving the rest of the soldiers. Well, there was _one_ idea but could he really make it? It would be risky but, if there was anything that could get him into a formidable position any time soon would be that.

'_I shall not use my powers for his dabbling, only my own_' he had made the silent promise as his vision had faded and went to sleep again.

* * *

The next few days were mostly spent making sure that he would be fine for the most part, though never changing the bandage. Which was the strangest part of it all. He simply assumed that the healers disinfected them with their magic and the bandage was there just for feeling the regular, older methods that he was used to. Magical healing was generally reserved for the more serious cases _of the people that mattered. _Mostly as healers did cost more than the actual medical equipment. Four days after the surgery, he would remove the bandage himself, a glint caught his eyes in the light. His right hand shaking, eventually tearing off at the rest of the bandages, he would see his entire forearm had been turned crystalline, tapping it, even the feel, touch and dull '_thunk_' sound were the same. Spreading to the back of his hand and elbow, so not only did they remove the muscle, though they rendered the entire arm useless of the muscle he had build? It was strange, being able to see the blood and bone through the layer of crystal that had a slightly glowing core. He had never seen a nexus fragment before, thus, it was new to him.

"Well, seems like you finally looked." muttered a voice by the door, dressed in green and gold robes, a middle-aged man would give him the warmest of looks, yet had the most dead eyes he has ever seen in another human being. Not even those whom he had extinguished had received pity of him, though this was a man with stories untold, that should not be shared with the world.  
"If you can get that bandage off, you sure can get your feet off of the ground too. Now now, c'mere." he would beckon, the room was a bit smaller than how he thought it would be, though it still looked like as if it could hold the secondary meaning to it as a training ground. The weight was strange. Despite crystal being far more dense, it still took the full size of his arm but did not seem to weigh more. It was confusing but something that would, at least, not required to have more.

"It'll take some time, though you, sir, can do some rather whimsical things with that there arm of yours now." he'd start, "Swords and shield have no use to you no more, you can just stab or slash your enemies with high speed crystal fragments. When you master them that is, you'll be able to display magnificent shows of bloodshed. I can quickly see the Crimson Reaper warming up to you." nodding, "Though, regardless, let us leave such thoughts for other times. Now now, your main task at hand is to practice to create small crystal fragments. They will be magically produced but still extensions of yourself, thus easily controllable once you get the hang of the basics." the man would instruct, thus far, not even giving a name, apparently keeping it that way too.

For the time being he could only just stare at his arm though, wondering how such a thing would be quite possible, "Yes yes, even in it's current..._budding_ state, you should manage something simple as that. Or have they still dulled your senses to the flow of magic within?" That phrase seemed to catch him off guard the most, out of everything thus far that he has been told.  
"Budding? Dulled senses? Why I can do everything just fine. Though, what is it that you mean by this?" he would ask, the reply would come as a chuckle,  
"Aha, okay, so they have not brought you back to the world entirely, or at least, not opened the new door in your mind." the mage would reply, going up to Ion, he would murmur a few words with a sigil forming in the air. Creating a tether to the arm, then snapping after a few moments. Ion would furrow his brows at this, that was until an impact of pure, mystical energy hit his mind. Causing such nausia that the man would double back and knees almost buckle, breathing became harder, sweat already starting to form and he felt himself about to start retching.  
"Now now, Ion, I suppose it would be hard to take in all that energy at once. It is after all, a piece of a nexus that they damn well shoved into your arm." he would say, the name was odd. How could an operation simply make him lose his name? First armour, shield, sword, arm, next his _identity_?  
"Before we continue, mage." he would grunt, "I shall _not_ be called this...Ion, you speak of. My name is Staff Sar-"  
"I _know _what your name is. I am simply calling you by what I was instructed to do so." he cut him off with a hiss, "I am very well aware though, that the people in the higher positions do not quite well take 'no' as an answer without heavy consequence." adding that with a lamentable note.

Shaking his head, the waves would soon pass, subsiding but the power and magic contained within the arm evidently spreading further. He knew, that it would eventually consume his entire arm, if lucky. If not, well, things could always get worse, "The fragment has changed your blood as well, they are not big enough to turn you into an animated golem, though how much of your body that will remain flesh is unknown to me." the mage would state, "Now, that you can feel the flow of magic within, care to finally get your proper training under way? The faster we get this done and your mastering it, the easier it will be for life in general to move on. Practice with your powers, tinker, toy with them. Imagination and intellect are what limit a mage, imagination allows them to come up with the idea to produce something they want and intellect is what allows them to be different. Either winning or losing, their hopes, goals and dreams, over or won." he would go on to lecture the man formerly known as Ratis De Tere'nu.

* * *

After training, he would go to the balcony. Despite his confinement, being dark ensured that he would not be seen by prying eyes. Watching the people under him, he knew it would be only about time when he has his revenge. "Ion, huh?" he'd mumble, looking at the arm, "Ion, the crystalline mage?" talking to himself, it seemed like it was catching on to him, that or the facts were sinking in. Generally, it would take someone a while, others may have simply went along with it, some would have already tried to break out. In his case, he had a name, life. Ambition! He still had them, for the most part at least. His guess would be that they would keep him until he became a force all of Noxus would be reckoned with, then have something held against him in order to not act against the Grand General. Thankfully, he lacked anything except his own potential and beating heart.  
If he could have tobacco, this was just one of those moments that would have really managed to set the mood to have one. though it was detrimental to his health, thus never quite took it up. It would take a few more months of mastering it, looking over the balcony, each evening. Seeing where the guards where, mentally planning out how it would go. The main problem would be, horses or any regular means of transport would easily allow for assassins to get to him, something Noxus was _almost _proud of. Thus, the only answer would be the sea. Regardless of an assassin's skills, they can only go as fast on water as the winds and ships can take them. Though, where to? Most places would be hardly welcoming of a Noxian soldier, least one strange as he.

_Ionia?_

It was a tough call to make, though they seemed to be the most spiritual lot from his time spent during the occupation. Being or Corporal rank back then, the places that were not ravaged by the conflict found families trying to simply find peace when they could not fight back. The Xenophobic attitude of them though, made such a simple task rather hard. He could not help but feel bad for them, though it was rekindling fires of back then, how could they have been blown out? During his training, he forced himself to forget about such _petty things_. Though seeing the rights being violated, _with a smile_, from the others was sickening. Though if he went there, what were the chances of them simply not ending it themselves?  
Zuan was not much of a better choice, if the assassins did not kill him on his way there, the pollution probably would. Bilgewater had some _friendly_ ties with the city state, thus neither that was much of an option. The 'city of progress' did seem appealing, having a natural harbour did help. Though the distance, would probably result in his life failing before the boat would reach the area. Iona seemed to be his best shot, from there, it would depend on luck, good winds, small boat and some armour would probably manage to get himself out of there. If only he could get his old set of items back...combine that with being able to create a layer of crystal 'armour' over his skin, it is something he would have to train. He was pretty sure that most strikes would have a hard time actually cutting through him. Combine the ultimate armour set with the ability to fire off ranged shards and manipulate them. Plans were forming in his head, it would take weeks but time was on his side. It would give him more time to practice and continue furthering his abilities. Rushing something of this magnitude would be potentially disastrous.

_'After getting to Iona...what next? Is signing up at the institute something worth considering? A number of Noxians have their own influence.'_ it would indeed not be very nice to run into Talon, Swain, Darius and Katarina all at the same time. Though, with his power, he intended on changing Noxus, _overturning _it. If he cannot stand straight towards such threats, his target...his new ambition would never be realized. His goal was set and there was no turning back now, reflecting on all Noxus has done, it was easy to see how they were only on trade-relations with Zuan, without any solid ties such as Demacia and possibly, Piltover being their closest allies. Though how far such bonds went are beyond him. The golden glint returned to his eyes, expression lifting to the solid determination he started applying to himself five years ago. Removing himself from the balcony, he would see about getting his armour, shield and sword back. Train hard as he used to, though this time, with magic. Skills and techniques also, to be involved and improved upon so he can show himself to be a proper champion, not just for the league but also, for Noxus.

_"I shan't hesitate, nor fall back. For a step back or second wasted, could mean a dagger in my back or head on a plaque"_


	7. Chapter 6: Galvanized crimson streams

**Chapter 6: **Galvanized crimson streams

It had been months from when the Nexus fragments were embedded into his arm, each day he trained as fervently as he used to do so earlier Pulling on some strings with a few colourful words, he did eventually get his equipment back. Though as his mind went on a one-track line, despite the days repeating over and over, time and again. He would find solace in improvement, as that was all he could do anyway. Improve himself further, train himself to become the best Noxus _once _had to offer. He was not sure if his armour was the same. Despite the design being the same, the marks from training on it still there as he remembered, the same for his sword. Yet those and even the shield all felt..._weightless_. That is probably what the mage meant by not needing them anymore, though for his future plans, he would at the very least, require the armour and shield. The plan was brimming near to execution, he had managed to perfect four techniques, the final one though, was a work in progress.

During his training, he managed to vastly improve upon his basic attack, flinging the crystals with every swipe of his arm, the strange thing was that with each crystal sent out, the Nexus core within his arm started to power up. Through further experimentation, he found out that it gathered a charge. Upon reaching ten charges, his next technique would have an additional effect to it. This was pleasing, as it meant that drawn-out fights would constantly be directed towards his favour. For what he had in mind, it would surely be drawn out farther than he may like, though with how light the equipment now was, he had to reconsider what his stamina and other physical capabilities were. The room, training side at least, was an utter mess. Pierced walls from his unending training, shattered _iron _training dolls from his hours of unrelenting training upon them. The walls lined with marks of his training, his _anger_. The resolve he had did not weaver nor change. Those whom ran Noxus with ideals of keeping up a war, affecting people by the thousands daily, fearing what may happen, shall not keep up such terror any more.

This place was not going to change, thus he would take it upon himself, to _be _change. As with evolution, to proceed onward, death is inevitable. Six men had their heads ready to the guillotine, only more would join for a soul to stand against him, is to be _crushed_. Without mercy, without remorse. He will wade into streams, lakes, rivers of blood and use the bodies of those whom fell to pick himself up and climb further towards his goal. Though, the power did come with additional sacrifice. The nexus had claimed his entire left arm, to the shoulder, for the duration of his training but did not seem to visibly spread further than that. As if it knew that affecting the joint would hinder him. Though he could control it without problem, so it did not get in his way. Another oddity was that the arm, despite made out of the crystal substance, still kept his body-heat. Making it almost feel organic, had it not a purely solid feel to it. It was clear and could see through it, despite nothing more than the nexus core of the original fragments with their dull, luminescent glow. It was easy to get used to, especially when mirrors are lacking around the place.

Going to the typical balcony, there was little activity within this section thus he had no fear of anyone disrupting his typical routine. The warmer winds of an encroaching Summer started to make it's presence known amongst the lands, along with the longer days as well. The night sky was welcoming, open windows allowed for the cooler, pleasant air to waft in with fresher air, something he noted was that the smell of the moat was not as powerful here than when on the ground, thankful that it was still present as if he were to gag during the escape just due to the scent alone, that would be quite the ordeal for him to recover from. Most people had forgotten what had happened, the fact that Ratis De Tere'nu had passed away, or at least, that is what they were told. To make things less complicated, he had complied with taking on the mantle of Ion, there were no checkups from the rest of the Generals, the only face he constantly saw was that of the still unnamed mage whom had trained him, in all honesty, he was used to social reclusion, thus this did not jar him. it was all for the better really. having relations with others may cause things to slip, that may deter his plans. He was leaving Noxus, _alive_. Thus anyone whom he knew here would only turn out to be short-lived, the massive man, leaning forward with his right arm on the stone railing of the balcony, keeping his chin up.

The view was as always, ships far off in the distance being seen with small, mandatory hextech orbs at the top of the mast so other ships can be sure to see them. Each coloured in accordance to the city-state they came from. The guards doing their typical rounds and the people within the district partaking in the general day-to-day activities. There was stillness to the air, unable to hear the people from below, it seemed fitting to call this the 'Hawk's perch', while unable to see the underground side of Noxus, from on top, this probably was the best view one could get of the city state. Escaping is a daunting task, though it will be done. As it was either that or wait for Swain to make further plans, so far he has not had to demonstrate his power to the Generals nor even unto Swain himself, the only person that knew what he could do was that old man whom taught him how to use his powers to start with. It was oddly suspicious that, such a precious stone would be shoved into a person and forgotten about, though, they probably thought that the training in magical arts would require at least a year to understand.

Fortunately for Ion, they did not go through the theory.

* * *

It was a few days later that the winds were blowing towards a North Eastern direction, '_It is time_' he thought, this was going to take a while, having to traverse out through the entire city and take down any of the guards that get in his way. With a sigh, he would head off to his room, donning the armour, shield and leaving the sword on his back. Though, it was strange to have the shield on the right arm. While feeling more secure to have it there, it was still an odd feeling. Emphasised by the fact that he did not have the left gauntlet on to allow his hand to be able to use the magic from it without trouble. Going to the balcony again, the corridor was empty as always, leaning over the stone railing, directly below him would be a dome leading towards another spire. A guard's lookout to keep an eye over most of the upper-noxian land along with having a better view of the sea in the event invaders ever do try and come along.

_'This better work_' he would think, hopping on the stone railing, he would jump off again and twist himself to face the wall. Arching his left arm back, allowing the Nexus crystals to generate energy for a moment, he would slam his hand against the wall and allow for a long, jagged crystal to pierce it. Slowing his two-or-so hundred meter descent down to a manageable speed. Though still going down at a fast pace, the landing wouldn't kill him. That was the important part. Eventually reaching the top of the dome, there would already be activity buzzing about. They had seen some suspicious activity from a rather important area. Fears may be that an assassin had come past the guard, though Ratis was doing the opposite. De-materializing the crystal, he would strafe across the top of the dome, digging his left hand into the wall as he went along. Eventually reaching the bridge between the dome and the spire, he would slide down and land with a roll.

"**Intruder! Halt!**" bellowed a voice from behind, "Who are you and what is your business here?" drawing a sword and shield, the place he wanted to go was about another fifty or so meters away from him, though lacking agility, running was not an option. "I am simply the cursed man, Ion." he would growl, a swipe of his left arm would sent a crystal flying to the man. Blocking it with his shield, Ion would dash up towards him, knocking away the other's shield and grasping the man's face, he would shoot out another fragment. Instantly puncturing the brain, he would be sure to de-materialize it to leave no evidence. Despite his escape being all the other higher-up Noxians needed to know who was about to unleash some heavy amounts of blood.

Running to the spire, he would look around from the area. The flurry of activity, torches and the glinting silver light from the reflection of the metal plates would be enough to let him know that there would be a large amount of people coming in for him. Leaning over the ledge, he would hop over and continue turning, using the momentum to let him face the wall and do the same as prior. Forming a large crystal, he would slide down the tower, looking at the lights moving, they hadn't all caught on to where he was. Though it was a long trip down, so he could only hope that they continued to look around for him on the inside of the building.

Hopping off the wall and landing with a grunt, bent knees and the fleeting wish for a drink, there would be another company of four guardsmen, "**Int-**" cut off with a series of crystals being thrown at them. Looking at his arm, he saw six beads forming along the nexus core, though, they would not be quite dead yet. The first one punctured through the shield and armour but only struck the chest, not deep enough to puncture the lung, the second and third hit another guard, the man was unlucky enough to have the fragment hit the tip of his shield, thus bouncing off and tumbling with high velocity straight to the face. the other two were only mildly wounded thanks to their armour and shields too, thus Ion would perform a shield-charge, in mid-thrust raising the shield up to unbalance them further as another three crystal shards would be shot out in a single sweep to finish them off.

Despite the amount of shots he fired, there were only ten beads forming that were revolving around the nexus fragment within. Blinking at this, he would proceed on. The next step would be getting to the southern bridge that had the tallest tower of the entrances. The shouting had indeed caught the attention of more soldiers, the difference between the armour Ratis had and the soldiers? He had no robes, it was entirely, double-plated full body armour, sans one left gauntlet. The shield also somewhat thicker than normal standard ones, allowing him to continue with his brazen escape. There were only a few routes that he could take, being on a mountain, scaling down the granite rock would be hard, not a risk he was willing to take thus he would simply have to charge on down until he managed to get to a pathway that would allow him to take his desired route. Though with more guards coming, it was going to take longer than he would wish for to get out of this place.

"**There he is!**" capturing the attention of some more comrades, meanwhile the hulking figure would simply raise his shield and with a charge that would shake the ground ever so slightly under him, proceed onward. Flicking his arm, there would be a crystal zipping along the ground towards the centre of the group. Readying defensive stance, the only problem with that was a moment later, the ground exploded under their feet. The crystal fragment exploded and the shards impaled them all, the force sending them off of the ground, bleeding and just in time. The shield charge would crash into them, despite the impacts of full humans crashing into his shield, he simply did not feel as much resistance as he thought he should have. Breezing through them, he would continue running down the hill. The longer he stays, the worse the situation will be.

Running down the hill, he soon saw his opening to slide down onto the bridge. With another squad of guards coming up, it seemed like the best choice, hopping to the side, the metal boots would start scraping against the rock, leaning his weight back, the left hand would slam another crystal into the rock and pressing most of his weight into it so he does not pick up too much speed on his way down. What did catch him off guard was that the cliff curved inward into the mountain again, leaving him free falling for about twenty seconds. The air rushing past him, mind a blaze, with a primal shout, he would cover his entire body in a layer of the crystal substance to act as a shock absorber along with the boots, the landing was not lucky nor graceful, leaning himself forward ever so slightly upon his feet touching the ground, he would roll and simply lay on the ground for a moment. The boots were shattered the crystal layer cracked, though for the most part, he was intact, which is all he required at this point in time.

Sweating, the large man would pick himself up. With more guards coming his way from both directions, this were not turning out too good. They all piled up at on both sides of him, "You are out matched, intruder. You will come with us, for questioning." declared one of the frontmen, straining his left arm, he would simply point it towards the row of men standing between him and the exit, partially clenching his hand and flicking the wrist up, a wall of the crystals would be conjured from the ground. Confused shouts started to ring out, looking at the men behind him, after a few seconds, he would clench his fist inwards and with a horrifying set of screams and crunches, the crystal walls would merge together. Instantly wiping out more than half of the men blocking the way, using his power to control the same blood and skin soaked crystals to embed into the ground between him and the rest of the guards, making progress not looking favourable for them as having to climb them may potentially result in falling into the moat.

Thus far, there have been no records of anyone ever living after taking a dip in that.

With his escape now partially secured, he would continue on his way down the tower much, like most of his trip downwards, involved him getting a good view behind him and sliding down the wall. Not quite considering just how much in repairs it would cost Noxus to get to all these tricky bits, then again. When trying to run for your life, to start somewhat anew with ambitions the size of the area one is escaping, such things do not quite happen to pass by someone's mind.

Eventually reaching the bottom, this is where things start to get a touch harder. Having mostly flatlands around him, it would make trying to move out of sight rather hard. Never mind the fact the assassins were probably being given a high-urgency mission to locate the intruder whom escaped from the southern exit. He could only keep on running towards the town's edge, while being less populated than the small amount of people, though fishing was a requirement for sustenance considering how little else was available to the people there. Being there a number of times during paroling the areas, it did help to know where was a viable point to escape to and considering the seasonal change from Spring to Summer, this would leave the boats out in the water for the fishing to commence. Continuing to rush through the night, the cool breeze stroking his skin through the gaps in the armour to prevent over-heating. The crystal layer of his skin, save for his left arm, receding back to the point of origin.

Fires in the background showed the guards trying to look around and find the man, running to the small shanty sub-town, he would manage to keep up a fine pace for a long duration of time. Such was the effects of his training, most people were indoors, save for some that were at a bar deviously named "_Blood's grog_" the man would be sure to simply keep minding his own business. He had no actual training on how to swim nor on how to operate a ship, thus quick thinking and improvisation would be required. Finding the smallest boat, he would cut the rope off with a vicious swipe from his hand and push it out to sea, holding on and clambering aboard. It was a small, two person boat. The stench of chum and fish lead him to instantly know it was once a fisherman's boat. Drifting in the river was not quite as beneficial as trying to figure out how to make the sail go down, alongside with the small hextech motor it had. The small red ringed button was pressed and hummed to life, making quite the series of clunking sounds as the motor started to function before starting a steady rumbling sound. With the wind blowing from behind, he would still want to know how to put down the sail. Though first, he would push on a small lever near the motor, figuring out with trial, error and almost tilting the boat over to the side, that pushing it up made the engine push the boat forward at a calm speed and down would slow it, eventually reversing. A bar sticking out was to steer it and the rudder as well.

Finally focusing on the mast, simple in construction as lacking a boom would allow him to use the wind better, though make things more complex too. Seeing the rope coiled over a metal piece, he would unravel it and allow the sail down to catch the wind. It felt gratifying to be able to do such things, even with the shouts of others on the horizon calling him to come back. Looking behind him, it seemed like as if they had given up chasing further. Thankfully the view he had allowed him to memorize the river path as well as not to run the ship aground until he got to the major ocean. Trying to stay at the middle to prevent anyone from either side popping up and sabotaging him, considering the width of it and the small size of the boat, things were going smoothly. Sitting down and removing his helmet, tossing the sword into the river. He would not be needing that any more. He only then realized how he was drenched in his own sweat, being in the cool night breeze was only going to offer him sickness. Thus he would have to sleep in his armour, not something one would look forward to but he had learnt on how to compromise the comforts of sleep over one night rather than be sick for more than a week.

Pointing the ship North-East, as much as the man could guess it to be, he would have a while before he could reach the coast of Ionia. Even if the winds died down, at least there was the motor to help him along. The somewhat calm wind allowed for small waves to be produced, making his trip all the easier. Finding a button to keep the rudder in the same direction, 'clamping' it in place to prevent the boat from drifting off course, dehydration, hunger and fatigue would sit in. Causing him to collapse on the floor of the boat for the night.

* * *

There were many times, when one would wish for the comfort of a bed, the warmth of a hearth or that of another. Though in the case of Ion, his wish to wake up to was neither a blanket nor someone of the opposite gender (surprising as it may be in this situation), it was simply not to awake with the stench of ageing fish bait in buckets next to his face to spill over, which would do nothing good for his mood, or health for that matter.

Sitting up and looking around, it was hard to imagine only a night ago he was surrounded by the walls of granite that built Noxus, the putrid mixture of the moat and the smell of death ever looming. Over here, there was the fresh ocean breeze, along with the ever sitting smell of the chum. Deciding that such a thing was only making the situation bad, the bucket would be tossed out a good fifty or so feet away. What was not expected, was moments later for a rather large fish to make it's self known. Presumably consuming all the contents of the bucket, along with the metal as well. He had seen many a person during his times that could be called a 'monster' but apparently the seas were home to things that even the mightiest of men would probably have managed to take down the massive being that came out of the water. To those that would know, it was a killer whale. What it was doing in these warm waters would be a mystery yes, though such an odd planet as this, nothing should really surprise one.

At least the smell of the chum was soon to be washed away by the breeze.

The wind still felt pretty much the same, thus he could only assume that he was still on course, not knowing the time, only the fact that hunger and thirst were starting to get to him. Though he would just have to hope that he would be able to keep sturdy even during the trip. Looking at the boat, it had a small cabin, mostly for what looked like to be a storage room for the boat, a bit old looking too in design seeing how the wood showed signs of wear, though he could not quite tell exactly how old it was. The motor looked as if it was serviced properly, clean and running somewhat smoothly, considering the price-bargain shop it probably originated from. Ensuring that his passage was secure, he would try to shift the handle of the motor and rudder, not budging, it gave him the satisfaction that he was not on a likely course towards Bilgewater or some utterly random direction that would leave him out for the seagulls...or what ever bird would replace the ravens inland.

* * *

With the hours passing, the situation not getting much better. The wind seemed to have died down, leading to a touch of worry to strike. Thus he would pull up on the rope of the sail and ring it (the rope) around the metal piece once fully up and shift the motor to full speed. Making a considerable amount of noise but also allowing him to pick up the pace by a much faster amount. Looking back, there did not seem to be any ships far as the eye can see, Noxus probably thought that he was going to Bilgewater, the most likely place for escapees to reside within the almost-lawless island. Such a place though, was not to his liking. Possibly ending up in a worse situation than in Noxus. Especially considering how that used to be, or still is, from word of mouth, the stomping grounds of Katarina. Being in the condition he was in, such a meeting was not favourable.

Finally looking into the cabin, there did not seem to be many supplies. Though he did find a fishing rod. An old wooden pole with a simple line and hook attached to it. Though unable to cook anything, it could at least help pass the time. Though an odd container did catch his eye, taking it out, there would be a series of tubes within and another smaller container inside. Scratching his chin, he would find the contraption to be interesting in design. Fully made out of glass, he found he could dismantle it and use the large part of the container to take in some water. The small layer of salt at the bottom and drops of water within the smaller container at the top of this let him put one and one together. Dipping the base in the water, he would let it fill a bit and place the rest of it on top. Eventually, with evaporation, the water would travel up the tubing and collect as fresh water at the top. It was a good idea, allowing one to essentially make their own salt and fresh water. The only issue would be the time taken, may be a bit too long for his liking.

Never the less, the day continued to pass with the loud rumbling of the motor and the drops of water slowly collecting at the top. Dizziness starting to claim him by sundown let him know, along with a drying lip and tongue, that his requirement for water was coming close. Such a thing would have to wait for the next day, so during the night the condensed water can cool off and form within the slightly higher container.

Going to sleep, now without the smell of chum, no catches on the line to elicit a good mood, or raise the morale. He would sleep despite the loud noise, exhaustion took him quickly without a meal that day and the fatigue from the day before, the mounting strain on him was stacking up but his resilience would force him to press on, he had ambitions to follow up on and people that needed a beheading. _Petty_ things such as lack of water or food was not going to let the fire in his eyes dull down any time soon.

* * *

Several miles off of the Ionian coast, the local sea patrol would spot a ship of Noxian origin, able to tell so by the Hextech blue light at the top of the mast. Using solar energy, it was the required item needed on any and all ships to be identifiable by others to prevent crashes and sinking, though, to their curiosity, there was neither a fleet nor an accompanying ship. Too small to be a scout, though it was passing into Ionian territory thus were obligated to take a look into it.

"_What business does a Noxian boat have in these waters? Trying to fish out of their waters?_" one of the men aboard would suggest.  
"No, too far away for them to dare doing that. We have not heard any requests to port, no ferries operate at the crack of dawn, abandoned maybe?" his fellow companion would guess.  
"_Regardless, send a message through coms that we have an unidentified boat approaching._" declared the first one. A nod in reply from his underling, by the looks of their relationship, he would simply pick up a small device, a radio using magic to send the stream of data through the air towards the main base a few hundred miles out informing them of the oncoming boat.

* * *

Waking up with a headache of a migraine degree, except it was simply _burning_ no pounding, just burning, was only possibly worse if accompanied by the taste of bile and the alcohol of the previous night. Worse yet, if you were laying face first in it. Ion would wake up, squinting. The rising sun made it easy for his eyes to adjust considering how it was not bright enough to make things worse. Taking a look at the container, there was a few cups worth of water formed, shakily taking it and drinking it. He did not care if it smelt odd, nor if the taste was just as strange, long as it was 'purified' water, without salt, that is all that mattered to the man. Seeing the oncoming boat, he would toss his armour into the sea, shield included, the last thing they needed to know was that he was armed in any manner. Ripping off some of his trouser leg and wrapping it around his arm, the sleeve covering it to the elbow, the rest covered, rather terribly, by the torn material of the leg.

"_Halt! These are waters of Ionia,_ _**Noxian**, what business do you have here?" _shouted one of them, armed with pikes to ensure that they would be able to kill off most whom tried to attack, the design was more sleek than that of Noxian manner. Already the differences showing, along with the accent. Being softer but with authority, respectable and polite yet able to turn harsh instantly, he knew he was dealing with someone that could be quite the threat to him, without food or water, unable to swim either, fighting them was not something he wished to do in the first place.  
"I have come seeking asylum." he declared, flatly, "I wish to speak to...your...leaders, if possible. Be it the star child or the will of the blade. I fear for my life, albeit, without a meal for almost two days, cup of water to sustain me, I am groggy and may need some help." he would reply, quick to shut off the motor as they came closer to each other. His expression did not seem to hold much worry, trained to always look confident, his slightly withered state would easily let them know that he spoke the truth, at least regarding the conditions of his trip here.  
"_We saw you throwing some items into the sea, what were they?_" he questioned further, sighing, he hoped to avoid it.  
"It was my armour, I wished to show that I meant no harm by casting what protection I may have with me aside." still keeping a calm voice, '_Along with my Noxian life_' he would have added, though that would be open for interpretation on a dangerous scale.  
"_Then let it be, you shall have your meeting, though be warned. Any foul play noted, at any point in time, we shall have two squads staying with you at all times. Climb aboard, that petty boat looks like as if it may sink with the slightest nudge of a wave anyhow._" his eyes widening, despite the trouble Noxus had given Ionia, they were willing to accept him?

* * *

"Now, _I can only hold a bigger grudge, the size of the hearts of these people, for what my city-state has done to the Ionians in the past_"


	8. Chapter 7: Tranquillity

**Chapter 7:** Tranquillity

In Noxus, the meeting room with the Generals had been rowdy with people attempting to blame one another in vain attempts to protect one's self against the eventual wrath of Swain once notice is sent unto him regarding the latest endeavours of the Crystalline mage. The ships had set sail to Bilgewater, as most do attempt to cower to that place when fleeing at sea. Surviving guards saw that he had no provisions on him and search teams were on their way to Zuan and in the general area, towards the Institute of War, even south down to Icathia, what remained of it at least or as close as the mountains of the Great Barrier allow. The air was heavy, it had been hours from when they first started the discussion and seem to have gotten nowhere. There was consideration of sending assassins to Ionia but the problem was that had they been found out, it would cause major issues with the institute. Last thing they needed was to give the Grand General an additional reason to have their heads detached by the sharpened axe of Darius that never seemed to be satisfied regardless of how clean a cut was.

Eventually, the doors burst open, the scowl from the furrowed brow and the strain on the eyelids went to show that he not only knew from the start that _something_ happened but they were obviously trying to find a way around it to make their lives all the easier, rather than just tell him. Stepping out from behind him, Katarina leaned against the door frame, one of the long daggers out and being gently caressed by the woman's hands, the closest thing to a 'mother and child' moment she would ever have.  
"Everyone to your seats, quiet." he would open, hobbling to his seat with admirable speed considering his disability, Beatrice took off from his shoulder to stand atop the seat, acting as a living mantelpiece out of place. Katarina silently walking to her chair as the others began to calm down, watching to see how the Grand General would approach this issue.

"The total death toll hit ten, thus far. They are still attempting to identify more through the pile of bone fragments left on the bridge." looking at all of them, "Squads counting in at triple that, or more." pausing again to gauge for reactions, "Neither a finger lifted, nor muscle moved, from **any** of you." closing his eyes and shaking his head, "So now, not only are people wondering if there are assassins better than ours, they are wondering about the man with the _glowing_ hand. Striking off our men as fleas, trapping them in a giant crystal wall and _crushed_ together to the point where individual remains and features cannot even be reconstructed by the necromancers to give proper burial. For the first time since the rune wars, perhaps prior to those also, our buildings have been scarred. _Tainted_ under your watch." his eyes, glowing with sheer malevolence for the people looking at him. While interested, Katarina did seem to lack a say in this, thus seemed to shift around in poses in the chair. Restless, she would be seeing the agonized faces of other on the fields of justice and keep the memories for..._later._ Yet instead, she was here, listening to the old man babble about something that she was only partially concerned about.

"Whom is to take responsibility for this disaster?"glowering in his seat, the Generals looked at each other, unable to stand up and declare whom was in the wrong, "No one sent out the elite guard." eyes focusing on each one as he continued, if his presence was not enough pressure alone, the soul skewering gaze he had would turn others to stone faster than Cassiopia Du Couteau, at least anyone that had not been through this before with him. "The assassins were ashamed that they could not hunt down the target. Albeit, one had noted that they were on stand by." an elbow resting upon the arm rest and palm supporting his chin to allow him to look at the next General, "The scouts did have little ability to communicate to anything else but the local guard and raise alarm. Though had no authority to call for higher skilled help either."

All the Generals were looking at one another, "We had not been notified of anything, we were told too late to properly dispatch anyone! Seeing how it was only the man himself around, it had been merely three or so months from when he started. How could anyone guess that not only would he have such natural control over his abilities but to also wipe out our men with merely a flick of a wrist?" one would suggest,  
"It is simple, _dear General_, he was trained by our greatest mage. One of whom belongs to a linage undeterred by the effects of the runic wars, kept the magic and secrets of it with ease. You think such a man was going to do naught but push him through the highest form of practical progress? Did you not read the notes of the daily report he constantly produced to ensure that results were being produced on a scale no other man would have understood nor achieved?" sighing again, "You shall have to await reports of the scouts, we shall have to see where he fled to. Even if by sea, he could have easily gone to hiding within Valoran it's self. Pull out all of our men whom were sent to Bilgewater, Katarina has been there recently, it is worse than usual. Going there would lead him to quickly die without knowing their ways there. So it is pointless." he would declare.

Getting up, "The incompetence of you all have bitterly disappointed me. I can quickly see another man rising to your levels of wit and beyond, while not as physically strong, a sharp mind can beat a sharper blade." he would finally spit at them, the hobbling man leaving the room and going back to the Institute of War. Katarina following in tow, the doors closed behind the speechless men. Looking at each other, a few words were exchanged before getting up and leaving.

* * *

The motor was humming but that was just it, considering the speed that they were going at, it seemed like the boat he had..._procured _was in a horrid state compared to what it should have been in. The man simply sat in the boat, closing his eyes to relieve himself of the constant throb, "_Here_" the word would snap his attention to speaker, the guard offering a small cup of water, "We shall ration you with small amounts of water, it would be embarrassing to have a man die under our watch." despite the kind offer, there was an understandable hint of venom to the offer, the caution was something he would have to get used to now, not being able to sternly look at someone in the eye and know the difference, there was going to be a large cultural gap that he would have to learn.

Taking the cup, he noted a bit of shake to his arm, blinking in surprise, he would question it another time, though for now, he would simply swallow the contents of the cup with relief. The tongue was dry and mouth too. He could feel the water flowing through and coming to a stop. It was intentionally small to not let him sputter and waste any of it, along with not straining his body too much.  
"So, Noxian. You have a particular reason why the arm is covered? You could have a weapon under it." the man would state, his heart sank for a moment, he would have to lie to try and avoid the questions that would follow. Though an idea struck,  
"Would replying hurt as much as a spear meeting your lungs?" becoming quite threatening in tone, Ion would simply leave his head hanging down.  
"_Nulum, Sir, would it be wise to insist on questioning him? At a glance it seems as if he is about to pass out, if not mentally already._" the driver would ask.  
"Correct, though suspicion abound, remember, assassins from Noxus have always been a force to be reckoned with. We do not need blood spilt due to our inattentiveness." the other would retort.

With the simple turn, it seemed as if it had worked. Closing his eyes, he would let the rest of the trip go without a word from his side.

* * *

A nudge to the ribs woke him once again, exhaling as his head would start to raise again, the surroundings would have changed entirely. Along with the sun being in a slightly different position than he remembered. '_How long...have I been out of it for?_' the question did come to mind but voicing it would not do much good regardless. Thus, upon the blur reducing to notable levels, it would appear that they had reached port. As promised, two squadrons of guards in tow, twelve people in full armour, with swords and shields ready for the slightest twitch of hostility that would come from him. The nudge coming again as he did not seem to get up yet, that proved to be a disheartening task to perform with the amount of fatigue built up thus far.  
"He is still critically dehydrated, are you not going to help him?" came a voice, he recognized it as the drivers. Sadly, the larger heart was a rank or more below the others. "He is Noxian, such a thing goes against their culture. He will climb out or dry up." he returned, which was true. Taking another's hand back there would lead to a knife in the eye, or spine. Thus if one could not get up, they were not worth the air they were breathing.

Though to make life easier on one end, he could only use one arm for the time being. Finally getting steady as the boat stopped rocking, the driver stayed behind Ion to ensure that he does not, at least, fall into the waters below. Leaning out and placing his right palm over the edge, the ground was hot. Though the burning was ignored, just to give him time to heave himself up and get his knee on to the ground. Once secure he would continue to make his way up. Taking his time not to fall and possibly result in a premature end to his plans. It almost felt silly to have so many people around him, though they did seem to know that a well trained Noxian, at least an assassin could lay waste to a number of men, even a high ranking foot soldier. Though he had no intent on harming the Ionians, they just could not be too sure about it.

The day was starting to show signs of being overcast, clouds blotting out the sun more often despite the dying winds. When he could see past the wall of spear tips, the surroundings were vastly different than what he would have thought this land to be. The entire port was naturally created by the weathering of the rock it's self. Processed further by the inhabitants to each corner fit to create a landmark such as this. Bustling people all around, traders from Brandle city, Piltover and Demacia all haggling, _laughing_ and bright in nature. Such a situation was making Ion think if he was dreaming or not. Most times people laughed were in bars, rekindling old flames regarding how tehy crushed another family member to attain the title as head of the family amongst other siblings and peer. The atmosphere was so much lighter, who would have guessed that people could keep a smile for so long without their jaw hurting them?

The march continued on the cobblestone pathways, nature and humanity mixing together. Trees and garden patches filling the air with the full force of the late Spring, giant Sakura gardens gracing their eyes and destination. He could not help but simply look around, why not turn such grounds to fields to allow for greater amounts of produce? More trade, furthering the profits, allowing others, or themselves to live easier. There were hardly any guards around the general area, were these all that this area had to offer? If he was to take them out, could he simply just be able to claim this land for himself? Now he understood as to why Noxus had attempted claim this land. Though he still could not forgive such heretical actions against beings that simply wish for peace and prosperity from within.

A Nexus next to a building seemed to have a congregation of people next to it, "What are they doing?" he would ask, silence following as they just continued on. Guess they aren't too friendly.

"They are meditating. Attempting to resolve inner conflict, attain wisdom and purge their hearts of hatred." A reply came from further behind, it was softer and notably accented, typical of Ionia. He was not quite sure what a Nexus had to do with it, though that did make him wonder if his arm would be considered as something as a 'gift' if he were not to explain the origins of it.

Getting further away from the port, there was little else to do but continue moving. The dehydration was starting to take effect again, his pace slowing and catching his feet upon themselves more often, "Need a break?" chimed a voice, "No." he continued, they were testing him. At least, that is what it felt like. They wanted to see what this Noxian can do, how far can he go before buckling over and asking for assistance, discarding his pride and mentality to lean on another shoulder. If crossing the sea was not enough, apparently there were more trials to undergo.

* * *

The time continued and the day became longer. The travels from the docks had taken them miles inland until the man finally fell with no ability to get up, he had stumbled before and bumped into the guard but he would simply mumble something and keep on. Even after his mind died down and vision became a haze, he mindlessly continued onward until he finally tripped. Did someone push him? Did he actually loose balance? He couldn't quite tell, nor did it matter any more to be honest. His body failed to respond and his mind shutdown on him. "Well, that's about time. Was wondering when he'd pass. Anyway, just pick him up and let's continue, he slowed us down enough." A familiar voice would declare, the guards brandishing their equipment, would take him up actually requiring five men to take him up. Mostly due to the sheer muscular bulk he had combined with the added weight of the left arm as well, he would weigh in at about twice or more of the local guards. Then again, he was 'moderately' larger than even the Noxians too.

Waking up with a cool breeze greeting them is something relaxing and surprising, especially when the irritation of pain is gone, just leaving one in a tired, relaxed demeanour. With the darkened colours of the sky coming from the window, it went to show that it had been a while from when he passed out last. The windows left open with only a very thin sheet preventing the man from getting a cold. Grunting as he raised his head up to look at the surroundings, there was not anyone else amongst the sea of beds in the room. A plant pot between each bed and overlooking scenery of a town right in perfect view, a small glowing orb to his left was simply present, with a plain, albeit dull blue glow to it, he could make out a magical sting between himself and it, thus acting as a general status monitor, from what he guessed.

"Ah, you are awake." a nurse came to him, standing by his side. "You suffered from a case of malnutrition and major dehydration." she stated, "You will be in bed just 'till midday tomorrow. You had pushed yourself further and harder than you ought to have done so." she would warn. There were obviously graver words behind the light smile she gave him, organ failure would have been imminent had he made it here a day later or so. He would look at his left arm, the covering removed and his arm. He would soften as he looked at it, the reasoning as to why he came here was not healed.  
"Sir, about that. There was nothing we could do. If anything, any attempt at healing magic we had placed upon it was merely absorbed to the core. Enhancing your connection with it, more than anything else. We had never seen such a thing as that, thus have called upon the Star Child for closer inspection. We have never seen anyone with something like this before, so if anyone would possibly bring you relief, it would most likely be her." she informed him. He could only nod,  
"This is not something that not only do I wish not want healed. It gives me further ambition and reason to progress onward."  
He would reply, sitting up, sighing. These were heavy words coming from him, his head lowering for a moment to collect his thoughts.

"I wish to use this power, this _arm_ to become something greater than a mere test subject. I had been meaning to request a meeting with the Will of the blades or the Star Child. So I thank you for helping me on that end, even if the intent was different."

The woman seemed to be taken aback somewhat by the words, the gaze of the Noxian looking out to the distance, rather than her, taking a seat, seeing how there was little activity going on.

"You said you wish to become something bigger than what you are, though, once your goal is achieved, what is it that you shall do with yourself? That arm? The potential long-term side effects can degrade your health. Do you think it is worth living a shorter life span just to be in the spotlight for a bit?" tilting her head to the side, the flowing black hair would finally catch a glance from him, she did not seem scared to be in the presence of a Noxian with power that is not understood by the other. Despite everything that his fellow countrymen have done to this place, he just could not get over it.

"Let me ask you something, during the invasion. Did you or anyone you know suffer?"

The blunt question was not taken lightly. The air becoming harder to breathe but he would push on through it, sighing,

"I shall take that as a yes. In that case, what I wish to ensure with my power, is to never allow such a thing again. At least, from my city-state."

The woman blinked in amazement towards him, confusion abound, though she would resort to what she had known in such a case. As always with human psychology, they resort to what they are comfortable with doing when they don't know how to do anything else when in a somewhat confused state.

"It is odd but, after seeing even a portion of this place. I cannot help but wish to protect it, where others can have what I did rend myself destitute of, joy. Simple life pleasures, I do not think that the base...morals, if you wish to call them, of Noxus are _entirely_ wrong. It is just the current mindset to reach out and claw the land with steel gauntlets that I believe to be wrong. Grasping what you can and anything you cannot have is left in a trail of rubble. I will change that."

In wake of his trials, the recovery was easily notable as the hawk eyes shone their near luminescent gold again. The fire and determination rekindled after the stop, realizing his body was bare for the most part, he did not quite consider that sitting up revealed the scars of fights he went through in his times as a kid. One spiralled around the bicep of his right arm, going around the arm up to the shoulder. Another was a diagonal cut from the left pectoralis to the middle of the abdomen. Those were the major ones, them series of smaller ones scattering through his body. The muscle definition highly visible and larger than on most men simply due to his intense training.

"Well, this was interesting insight, we have no records of your name. So what might I call you by?" she asked, holding the papers at an angle to allow her to write his name,  
"I have come to be known simply as Ion." he would reply, "I once had a proper identity. Albeit, in Noxus, the man has been declared dead. Thus to make things easier, I shall stick to this."

A final nod and she got up and promptly left. With the Star Child coming to him, it was only a matter of time until he would finally have his meeting with her. Things were going as planned, if it kept up, he would be on the track to making history in no time. He just needed the co-operation of others to continue as is and soon enough, there will be a premature end to the reign upheld by the man Jericho Swain. It was strange that she would up and leave so fast, suspicion abound but he had no idea how the tether was connected to him, so he would not risk moving least he did something that could bring his demise faster than he would have liked to go.

Sleep soon befell the man, it had been a troublesome day and he thought the other whom would eventually come to meet him would be just as tired. Thus, closing his eyes. The day would come to a close, despite resting for a long period of it, his body most likely needed to recover and plus, getting out of here faster was also better so with that line of thinking, he would simply close his eyes and proceed to rest again.

* * *

With the morning arising, he would be nudged awake, "Sir? You have a visitor." came the familiar voice, blinking a number of times as he proceeded to sit up, "Hmn?" scratching the back of his head, he would turn to see another being with an odd skin tone, at least one he was not familiar with before,  
"Ion." she started, the voice catching him as alien even to the Ionians he had met thus far, soft, almost noble but the wording seemed hurried, despite it being regular conversation,  
"You have come to Ionia, seeking asylum. Which we shall gladly extend unto you." she would pause for a moment, to let him understand the weight behind the words, "You have shown a different light from typical Noxan ambition and attitude. You are still filled with the hate that emanates from the land, I can see it in your eyes. The Golden brilliance they hold, contain even harsher intent unto others. That is obvious so much so by looking at you."

Needless to say, it is an awkward feeling to be woken up and have a complete psychoanalysis of one's self being given on the dot,  
"If I may confirm." he raised a single finger, "Are you the Star Child?" it was shocking that he did not even know the face of the one who he was requesting, though it seemed like he did not even know her name.

"Yes, I am. I had thought that you knew?" looking over towards the nurse for a moment, shrugging lightly in response, Soraka would turn back to Ion. "I can assure that you shall be safe here in Ionia. As we do with all Noxians though, we shall show you some of the landmarks we have built. No worries, it is not to begrudge or make you feel indebted. It is merely to show how we do move on, some still hold the bitterness in their hearts. You must understand that much at least, though most of us have meditated and learnt that we should have attained the protection of the league during it's formation. Mistakes are made and history is written so our children do not do the same." she would finish, leaning over and tapping on the ball, it would grow blank as the tether was removed from him.  
"Now come, I have been told you have some interesting ambition. Though, first we have much to talk about. A man of your physical capabilities should not be restrained to that of the bed. Especially knowing your kind, restlessness comes fast and easy. So I shall watch you for the day, providing you with support if you do happen to come across a rough patch."

Ion would shuffle out of the bed, in pure white robes, he knew going out like this was not the best of idea. Though he was on a shortage of attire, it would not worry him if he did have to go out like this, though if possible, it would be best if he could change into something else.

"Well, you do not seem to have brought any belongings with you, I was actually told that you had _thrown_ your armour into the sea. Something I would not expect, I shall request for clothing to be sent your way. The league does provide for more than I require, thus I normally present it unto schools that would need it more than I." as if reading his mind, that or he had just made it plain obvious by looking down at himself. The robe was quite open, tied at the waist but leaving the chest and sides pretty open to allow for a lot of ventilation and comfort. The material was light, almost letting him think that he was naked really. He was used to the heavier cloth of Noxus, helping to soften against oncoming punches one might expect out of the blue. Though here, everyone had trusted each other to not pursue such violence, so they were lightly clothed. No weapons carried by anyone, at least, far as regular civilians went. Was no one scared of being mugged? Brought into a fight with someone else that would be too drunk even during the day? He would have to explore a good amount more of the place before finally getting used to how peaceful this area was.

This line of thinking though, did force him to keep his wits about all the more. Noxus would probably be scraping at his heels to get him back or even kill him. Though sending anyone here would jeopardize their ability to stay within the League. Thus it would be easy to assume that they would be elsewhere. At least, so he hoped. "Ion, please, do take this. I shall draw up the curtains so you are not disturbed." she came back holding a neatly folded crimson set of robes. With gold stitching running through the material in hand-crafted patterns he would unfold it and look at it through, some trousers did fall down as well as a pair of shoes. Nothing made for defence but for comfort, unrestrained movement. Focusing more on light and agile, rather than heavy and protective. It was strange how one could even strategically compare the differences in attire.

After a few minutes, the clothes were actually a decent fit. Though he could not help but guess the nurse did change him in his knocked out state, hence the good fit on the clothing. Such a thing was typical medical practice, so he did not dwell much on the thought. The fine, thin silk did not hinder his left arm going through, the loose sleeves allowed for ventilation and air exchange even more, in addition to the thin layering of the robe. A small sash kept atop of the knotted belt to be even more presentable and merge all the clothing into one piece from the looks of it at least. Drawing the curtains, Soraka would take a moment's look, "Well, you seem uncomfortable. Is something too tight?" apparently being in Ionia allowed one to have sharp perception of others feelings.

"Not at all, I am just perplexed by how different clothing is between city states." he would reply, "Thinner clothing, feeling more exposed. Though fitting with the entry for Summer to start coming. I appreciate and shall keep this close with me for long as I can. It is the only form of gratitude I can show, as words can easily turn hollow." Bowing slightly to her, only after standing at full size did the fact that she reached only to his collar bone, horn a bit further up, did their size difference come to notice.

"So are you implying that you are a liar?" she arched a brow, unphazed by the difference in height, her tone was not suspicious, curious even.  
"Not at all, merely customary. Results are the final say of one's words. Though prior to them forming, words can mean many a thing. Openly left vague for misinterpretation or other reasons. In my case, I wish to only show gratitude towards how kind you and your people have been, despite belonging to a state that once besieged these lands and walls." the tone turning more sombre than usual as he continued, sorrow afflicting him as a surgical cut would.  
"Need not stand in the mud and keep looking back, we are people of spiritual and mental progress. Not like that of our friends in Piltover but of a similar kind." she would smile at him, he would start walking with her. Another day to admire what he could not do so before.

Going further through the city, word had gone round like wildfire that there was a Noxian in the town, though who would have guessed to see the stoic face seem more gentle than before? The luminescent blue glow of the arm confirmed the identity of the newcomer. Though for him to be with the Star Child, a champion of Ionia, without a regiment of guard, not only that but wearing high quality clothing made some question the wisdom of the smaller women near him. The buildings always had patches of trees and plants near by, as if planting more to make up for the ones having to be removed for the buildings. Normally circular in shape, with pointed, slanting roofs to allow rain to collect at pointed destinations when required, to allow snow to easily fall off of the roof tops during the winter and reflect the heat of the sun away during summer. The oriental design to the area interested him, figuring out how and why certain things were built, nothing ever seemed to take a military or defensive perspective.

Thus, asking such things, the woman giggled, "It is because we live in an area not dominated by the glint of blades and touches of poison. We do the opposite. Heal the wounds of others, mend their soul and bring them to balance. The balance of living and dying, the pathway to spiritual enlightenment with meditation. Noxus is a place where you either worry for your life and protect yourself, looking over your shoulder, as you have been doing to watch for following people. Or, you live day be day and not care, long as it does not hurt in the end. From what I gather." she would tell him, proceeding on through the pathway, "You have much to learn about the world around you. If you can, I would suggest going to Piltover, even Bandle city along with, if you can bring yourself to do so, Demacia." she suggested, though he cringed at the last area being mentioned, "It seems as if your distaste towards the palce carries on with you during your travels. I suggest going with someone that at least, knows what to do and not do to prevent trouble. If they catch wind of your origins, I suspect you would wish to take leave from the area faster than our monks can punch." considering the tensions and the 'brain washing' rulebook that they were bound to follow, there certainly would be clashes between the city state and Ion's mannerisms.

During his time with the woman, she seemed to simply allow all fears and worries to simply melt, the voice had grown to become reassuring, though he still did not relent on his guard. Nor did he stop to think as to where they were going.

The only thing he registered was a grove that he found himself in with her, trees planted in obviously human cultivated area. The air laden with the spices of the needles from coniferous trees within the area. Though between each tree, there was a tombstone. Looking at Soraka, she went to the first one and beckoned for him to follow.

"_Noxian soldier, Unidentified - 2 CLE_"

The stone was that like the Noxian mountain had, feeling it, the smoothness had been attained through standing here for the years gone by but it instantly struck him, it was the same as that from home. The elegant design of the font, men who died in glorious battle, some had graves better than their own homes and families. Turning around to look at her, he was utterly shocked, the first time his expression had changed from the hours she had seen him of the day.  
"Yes, Ion. This entire grove, dedicated to those whom fell. Men, women and children. All side by side, both of Noxus and Ionia, present here." she stated, "In the end of their life, each person is a human being, thus we treated them all the same. The Ionian culture had them cleansed with fire, bones crushed and buried in an urn. What has happened to our land, has happened with reason. We have learnt from it, there are some, that would not have been able to move on with such ease. Though I wanted you to know, your heart differs from that of what many assume. Your hands are tainted with blood, you step upon a number of corpses and trudge through the thickening stream of blood. Coagulating and slowing you further the more you spill. Know this, Ion. My personal hand shall always extend unto you, if you stay true to your word, you will be liked and possibly admired by many, looked down upon by others. I shall only confer your words towards the Will of the Blade, Irelia and the Enlightened one, Duchess Karma. You have been applied to join the league, to ensure your own protection. By now, they should be waiting for you. You will undergo the judgement of the league. You shall have your mind opened, your intentions seen." she would warn him, taking a breather after the speech,  
"The task is strenuous and taxing on the mind, so I hope your stay here has relieved you a bit." grinning at him in a friendly manner, "As the league has company like that you would never quite have guessed to simply run into on any other day." a small movement of the head would beckon him to start leaving with her.

* * *

Hours later, they had arrived at the transporter to take them to the Institute, funded by the Elders of the province, it was only used when required. Though common to have to establish a fast link, most typically use the Zepplin or go by boat to Piltover and travel to the institute from there, allowing for a nice trip and suggested by some. Though outside, there stood a woman, young looking though a glimpse of the Emereld eyes lead to him knowing that this is indeed a woman that has been through many tough times, times imposed upon her by the people of the state he wished to prevail. _Once upon a time_.  
"Ah, Soaraka!" she waved, the blade, rotating from side to side as if imitating the action to a lesser extent. She would return the gesture, though with some added restraint.  
"Irelia, always good to see you. I am glad that you had made it here." she would smile at her, joy filling her voice to meet her friend again,  
"So, this is the man we had taken under our care?" eyeing him up instantly with an arched brow, "Dare I say, he may even be bigger than Darius." the voice held more of a stoic-analytical tone to it, thus taking it with a grain of salt. Though, he did note that he was not identified simply with the place of origin, a relief, to say the least.  
"Yes, I am Ion, the Crystalline Magus." he would bow to her, much like Soraka, the height difference was notable, though she was a touch taller, yet the same results just about everywhere he went.

"Care to display what you have to show? What has happened, did happen. That is not what I am interested in, I simply wish to see what the man whom promises a better future has to offer prior to meeting on the fields of justice." she would state, the authority seeping from her, perhaps it was natural for her to take such a stance considering her position. Though, having her weapon by her did unnerve him some, as he had no armour on at all.

Presenting his left arm, he would give a single swipe down towards the ground. A light-sky blue 'bolt' would be shot and the ground would rupture a slight, pulling his arm back, in a semi-circular motion, would reveal a single crystal had shot out, "That is merely the 'tip' of my potential. I wish to join the league to further enhance my prowess and if you were informed, eventually make my ambition reality, for the betterment of Noxus. In a manner that would benefit all the people of Valoran." he would declare. "Any whom dare stop me, shall be only another person whom I must climb over to achieve my final end. Any obstacle I _do _come across shall be tackled and ravaged. For I shan't allow anyone from preventing my ideals coming true." he declared, the fierce words met with a voice that would please a mob, inspiring others around him, had there been more people. The two women simply looked at each other and nodded, "Then come with us, you are to be a champion of the league. Soon enough."

* * *

_"They know of my will, a force none shall stop. I shall induce change, by blood and slaughter if required."_


	9. Chapter 8: Welcome to the League

**Chapter 8:** Welcome to the League of Legends

Blue light faded from his vision as he found himself facing the Institute of War, a small section where he was in had multiple other small platforms on it with people coming and going, he was not entirely sure how they worked, though for the time being, it was not something to concern himself about either. The air was different than that of Ionia, despite the liberal use of magic there, over here, his arm started a series of sequential pulses, radiating magic from the Nexus core. Perhaps due to the copious amounts that were centralized all within one location may have stirred it. Eyes looking around to see for anyone out of the ordinary, now he was out of the comforts of Iona's arms. Now he was back into the ordinary world, the possibility of a knife slipping into his back was there again. Though, when his time did come, he probably would like to stay in Ionia, be it in a grave or a house to retire to. Be it if he manages his objectives or not, there did not seem to be a better place, for a spirit to attain the rest it may need.

The bustling people, summoners, commoners and a few richer people did fill up the place, though the stairwell was where he needed to go. The arm pulsing more frantically as he got closer, that would indeed be where his next objective was. The stone stairs were still pristine, perhaps magically so with the intricate carvings letting out a dim light to ensure people do not trip on them. The energy surrounding him allowed him to pick up the pace with little thought. The climb taking longer than he would have thought, even passing by a jogging person who seemed to have used it as he did the Noxian mountain earlier on. The light clothing enhancing his movement rather than the thick cloth, light foot falls striking the ground as the air grew slightly colder, yet further filled with the magic. Arranging his robe, he would continue further onwards to the double doors that awaited him. Without any form of exasperation or signs of wear, the man made it up as if it were nothing. The first person he sees at the door is the Minotaur, Alistar. Leaning against the wall, on the lookout. Eyes meeting, Ion would pay his respect with a silent nod, receiving one in return, the man would proceed on further into the complex.

* * *

The air around the man is that of sheer dominance, the physique allowing him to crush anyone whom opposed, though despite that, his posture is not perfect. His back hangs a slight forward shoulders together but not squared. A sharp eye would tell that he is always on the lookout, the stubble covering his face with the hardened look easily allows for one to identify him as a Noxian, though irregular of his kind. The hint of paranoia is not entirely like that of his kind. He looks stern and the most notable trait would be the constant glow of the crystalline left arm. The golden eyes shining ablaze, defiant, progressive and intense with life. Despite seeing death, coming closer to it than many would have liked, he would carry no weapons on him, thus it was the arm that would be his weapon. As with any Noxian, the weapon of choice is no further than their finger can curl around. The ceiling laced with the laboured artwork that was slowly faded with the years that had gone by. The doors would open to allow the man inside.

* * *

The arm stopped pulsating while it did not catch his eye at first, the scenery changed to that of Noxus. The training grounds, his body felt sluggish, it was a massive weight upon his back and shoulders that stopped him from standing properly without some inane movement using the sheer momentum to bring himself to a steady stand. His chest bore the aches and pains of a fight of the prior day, "_You call yourself a man, boy? Train harder or next time it will be worse than a few beaten muscles on your end._" came the familiar voice of Nhylees, further back into the day, it presented the man as something more grand than when he last remembered seeing the man. Those words were told to him as Ratis was simply hanging from the pull-up bar in his freshly made armour. The arms shaking violently as the hands simply gripped and were still on the pole by the weight alone, a kick from behind ensured that his lack of grip had a price to pay. The fall would not have hurt much but with the armour, the weight pressed upon him as death would unto the sick. Only able to make inhuman sounds as the air was crushed out of his lungs and stomach caved inwards with the abdominals unable to fully support the pressure. Rolling onto his stomach, the hands would drag themselves to push himself up.

"_Oh look, it's Ratface, after losing to Quntsie, he really did take the man's words to heart. Look at him though, he can't even train in armour." _

Those lines, they were from when he had first joined the Noxian millitary. The grim determination of the man was building through the others looking down upon him. To show that he would be of more use than they were, smoking, drinking and being busy under the covers. He would dedicate himself to training and eventually, seek out the individuals whom belittled him to show that he made a good choice in his path.

Though, with the visions fading, he blinked, the sounds of clashing steel and burning fires. The fumes of noxious mixtures lingering in the air, surrounding him was the countryside. _Ionia_. Wearing significantly lighter armour than that of when he was training, it was still thicker than the standard set given, along with having more coverage as well making him more iconic than the rest, all wearing the same armour. Wielding a weighted, trusty great sword. His size and physique had improved since then, taking the blade out of the sheathe, he would simply point down the hill once _most_ of the fumes had been washed away. Charging in with the company mid way, the rush of air would send the remains of the chemical bombardment further away from them, thus he would be unaffected. The remaining soldiers were attempting to retreat, though he would have none of it.

"_A back turned is a life awaiting sacrifice for our cause_"

He never did open his eyes or think against what he was told. He couldn't, it was simple as that.

"_Compassion, kindness, is weakness. It will only shame you to carry it_."

It was things like this that they were told, how could he go against it when it was all that was keeping him pushing forward? Attain power, become strong, do anything that is required to become stronger and beat those whom are weaker than you to progress forward. He grimaced, he knew the error of his ways, the error of the upbringing of Noxus, yet what could he have done otherwise? He did not have the power to escape, like now. Nor did he _wish _to think otherwise. Such things were shaken out and thought of as useless.

"_Ah, m'boy. Here's something special about you!_" a familiar voice would come, finding himself on an odd 'seat' it turned out to be his father's lap. The fire burning lightly during the cold winter, "_You know, what it is like now. Being on both sides of the coin. You know what it's like to get beaten up and be weak, though now, you know the possibility that you can do with power. So remember, do not simply abuse your power, think about those whom you are beating. Do you want them to be a stronger person whom you can call an ally? Leave them alone and let them do as they wish, or kill them? Everything that they had done to work for until now, just snuffed out with the stroke of a blade." _The young Ratis would scratch his chin,

"Kill them! If I leave them alone, I don't know how good they are so someone who dislikes me can team up with them! If I let them live, they won't like me, so they might come at me again. So if it is like that, pa, I'll just end them!" elicited a jovial response with such words, earning a chuckle from the older man, "_You'll learn, that if it were simple as that. It'd be much, much easier to live here boy._"

The room returned to its normal state of darkness, "Ratis De Tere'nu, why is it, that you wish to join the League of Legends?" from behind him, a purple cloaked person would simply gaze at him as if watching him all the time.

"I wish to join because change needs to happen. I need to train in magic that only people on the levels of summoners can help me, Valoran will have this moribund continent is going to have change induced as I seek merely one thing. Stability." he would declare. Though the lips of the summoner would merely take a dip.

"Why, _Ion_." the word would gain emphasis to it now, "Do you wish to join, the league?" the question repeated, though the difference made the man's eyes glow, dangerous hatred smouldering behind them, "To bring the severed head of the Jherico on the broken platter." he would growl. The left arm lighting up as the Nexus within it gathered some activity to it again now, "How does it feel to have your mind connected to another?" the gentle voice would resume, the authority shown in it's own way, "It is strange, yet, it has made me remember something I had long forgotten." he replied, calmer now as the sensitive topic had passed, "I was learning this while in Ionia, yet while not keeping it in mind at all times, balance is indeed required. I do know what it is like to be on both ends of the stick, so what I shall do is to simply crush only my foes and no anyone else just because one person has their own greed in mind." he declared.

"Well then, if that is it, welcome, to the league of legends, Ion, the Crystalline Magus." a twitch on the summoner's lip almost indicated a smile.

The man vanished from sight and the double doors appeared in front of him, a motion of his left arm and they swung open with ease.

* * *

With the entry to the league, he was met again with the massive halls with busy people. Summoners, champions and some regular looking folk filling their schedule and performing the tasks that need to be done. From around a corner, a black cloaked figure grinned at him before vanishing. Arching a brow, looking around the corner after a few moments and there was no trace of...her? Ion could not quite make it out, though he would shake his head, no point in anything like this. Looking for a hooded figure amongst a sea of others was very much like a needle in a haystack. He would produce a crystal from his hand and hold it by the tip, flicking it upwards, the extended fingers would brush against the bottom of it to let the crystal spin in mid air faster and reduce the height it went to. With an open palm, the crystal would simply fall down and continue to spin atop of the palm as if gravity suddenly lost control over the object. Gaining more and more speed until eventually stopping, the man would be casually doing this while looking around, until a firm hold upon his shoulder caused him to swiftly turn.

Ready to drive an open palm into the face of the one whom surprised him, he calmed down once he figured out that it was another champion. Blond hair, blue eyes, petite figure and a rod of sorts. Definitely a mage, combined with the light armour, nothing of Piltover nor Zuan, Ionian armour was different, that he had seen first hand. Obviously, he was dealing with a Demacian then. Least it be a being of another world looking fairly human, though he cast aside such a silly idea. Tilting his head at the other curiously, the glittering looks and demeanour were unsettling to say the least. The smile held hollow eyes, despite their unnatural brilliance.

"Are you the new champion?" despite the looks, she sounded a lot younger than he thought, considering how much...well, makeup was not the right word but the liberal use of magic around her was strange.  
"Yes." he flatly replied, not knowing just how much everyone else knew of him, if his memories were shared with everyone else, then he would suspect that the girl would not be acting as friendly as she was. Least she were intending to lower his guard?  
"Ah! Brilliant, looks like I get to show you around then." she would chirp, clapping her hands together.  
Not being used to a tranquil area was one thing, it was quiet and easily lead to adaptability. Though being faced with such..._friendliness_ was something that left him staring blankly at her for a moment, "I would have expected one of the lower class summoners or something like that to show me around. Not such a person of...esteemed position." he would reply, being so casually approached was something he still could not quite understand, let alone as to why a champion would wish to show him around. Despite being of _equal_ levels of authority and position, he could not help but feel that she was a bit more of a veteran around here next to him. Though regardless of how dull he acted, she seemed to be insistent on being the one to take him around. As if the more he tried to contract, the further she would reach in to drag him out.

"You win, teleporters do quite drain one of their will to argue with another determined as you." raising his hands up and head tilted down, earning a triumphant huff from the other, hands on hips as she momentarily basked in her glory. She would beckon him with her as they would go around. The marble walls and dense columns littered the hallway as if showing off the riches through architecture was considered to be important at the time of construction. The amount of money required to bring such a place up from the ground would have been tremendous, then again, seeing as how the best mages of all Valoran were the ones to found this place, their wealth was probably enough to flood the institute several times over. At least, he would guess. The area was pristine in condition, despite holding some of the notably stranger folk, no marks nothing. The area seemed to be big enough to comfortably fit just about anything, these people obviously guessed that it would eventually become pretty populated.

First off, they had met the mess hall, interesting in design right off the bat. It was concave in shape, a section cut out to allow some to go out to the garden directly connected if they wished. From what he could see right off the bat, there was a healthy mixture of people within the area. Just judging by some of the armour alone that they had worn, there were some Demacians laughing and conversing with eachother, Jarvan was easily notable in his imperial armour, another one was Garen, having seen the man in battle in Kalamanda. The one that stood out was the last one, obviously unrelated from them, though seemed to be part of their group. The black hair and pony tail seemed almost typical of Ionian nature, though the armour was not.

Further scanning the area, there were a few...well, you could call them _monsters_ really. Red hair and what looked like leaves covering most of her body, seemed to be simply out in the sunlight. Another had deathly pale skin, mostly black attire aside from a touch of red. Eye twitching as it almost felt like as if the woman was death herself. If not hitting right on the mark, a man had brushed past them in some noble looking clothing. Though with a skeletal hand, he could only think of the reaper it's self. If that was not enough, a massive tree-esq person seemed to be getting along with a rocky companion. Asking about each one of them, Lux would simply reply, "Xin Zhao, steward of the King, Karthus. Don't quite know much about him, he is quite the hermit but yes, undead as...it gets." even she seemed a touch uneasy regarding his presence, "Elise, the spider queen. Yes, she can turn into a giant spider. No, she does not make silk for people, at least, I haven't heard if she has started doing so at least." her cheery demeanour was replaced, momentarily, with that of actual contemplation and thought.

"The one outside is Zyra, rise of the thorns. Not many do go to her, except of gardening is involved. I would say she may get well along with Le Blanc, if she actually did show around from time to time. An article in the Journal of Justice actually had a question for her on that topic, regarding gardening. It surprised me that she was the type to look into it." shrugging, "Though, with her, everything really isn't what it seems." she would go on to explain about Maokai, Malphite, Ashe, Tryndamere and a few others roaming around the place. "Though, out of everyone I have explained, you never did quite seem to ask about me, is there something wrong?" arching a brow, her lip up an inch as she was making a joke, "No, it is just that such odd beings. I never did quite think I would see them. Though, why not tell me about yourself?" he asked then, tugging him along off to get some food and drink from the canteen.

"Luxanna Crownguard." she would start, affirming his suspicion about her being a Demacian, alongside with revealing the fact that she was siblings to Garen. After a plate of mostly meats, there were some other vegetables on the side. Though his diet has not changed much, he was still going to keep up his schedule after all. He would just rather get to know his enemies sooner than on the fields where he would face them without any knowledge of their abilities. "I can use magic to bend light and shape it into illusions or even as physical objects through hard-light formation." she lost him on the last word, though guessed that she can just form items out of light. "Come, lets sit with them?" she offered, this was going to be less than easy to agree, though biting his lip, he would simply nod and shuffle with her towards the others. Swearing that he saw a glint of red hair, after turning around, only seeing Zyra, she returned a look of curiosity to him. Though shaking his head, a touch dazzled, he would dismiss her. That was the first awkward moment he remembered having after a while.

"Ah, sister. Whom is the company that you have in tow?" Garen's voice would be heard, taking a seat on the cushioned chairs, he would straighten himself out first.  
"I am Ion, the Crystalline magus." he would reply, "This is my couple of hours within the institute. Your sibling pressed the matter of showing me around. Figuring that she was the type to press on until she did win, I raised my hands in defeat and joined her." he would reply, "I presume you are Garen Crownguard, Jarvan Lightshield?" receiving a nod from the two of them, though there was one left.  
"This is Xin Zhao, he was saved from the Noxian slaughterhouse that was the fleshing." almost cringing at those words, "Though he had taken a poisoned arrow to save another's life as a show of his loyalty. It was the king, that he saved in turn. Thus, he has been given the title of Seneschal of Demacia." nodding, that is probably why he never did know of this man.

"So, what about yourself Ion? What city state do you represent?" the air started to turn grim for the man, he would have to try and wriggle his way out of it as to try and not upset the company.  
"None. I did not come here to represent anyone or thing, I came here for personal reasons. Ones I would rather not share." he declared, making it a bit more dramatic by making it sound more grave than it actually was.  
"Ah, were you affected by the Ionian war?" she further inquired, much to his chagrin.  
"In some ways, that I look back on it. Lessons learnt to be remembered." he would reply, they could only assume as much from his attire. He would have to thank the starchild again for the attire or things could easily have gone worse.

A somewhat awkward silence was replaced with conversation again. Mostly relating to matches and other Demacian matter, petty things that did not matter him nor require his attention. He had already spent too long around the Prince of Demacia himself to feel comfortable. A man whom he would have gladly taken his head, _previously_. Going through the meal, first starting with the vegetables and then the meat, the fat and bone was removed prior to being made available, making it very comfortable to have. The quality alone was something he had never remembered, best of all. It was free, from the vast amounts of wealth that the League had, they could afford leaving the kitchen open. Having a chef at the typical required times, though he was told that sometimes, Morgana, has been known to do some night-time baking which has always been very popular with most that ever get the sweet, or savoury tooth.

* * *

He was then shown the training grounds, fully equipped to the point where he guessed that his training could still be taken a long way before pausing. Labs, adorned with the works of Ryze, Singed and eve a few of Blitzkranks odd gizmos. Heimerdinger did tend to work back at home, rather than in the League labs feeling that Piltover still had better equipment. The libraries where Taric was seen looking into a number of books regarding the Rune wars magic, after being told of his obsession with gems, Ion was quick to insist that they leave. Least he spent hours with his arm being inspected. Leaving the rooms to venture to the main hall again, the sleeping quarters were found strangely close to the library. Despite the massive size of the place, everything felt pretty compact with short traversing distance. "I remember seeing them insert the plaque not too far away." she scratched her chin, it was strange to be in the company of another for so long, though the only thing that irritated him was that he has not trained at all. Swearing to make it up at night, he would simply go on to follow her.

"Ah! Here it is!" she would exclaim, a large wooden door, having familiar bronze plating on the front in a design similar to that of the Noxian camp, "Huh, I don't remember seeing this before." she would comment, though turning an eye towards Ion, gritting his teeth, he would simply make his way towards it, "Aren't these of Noxus? Can tell from the design." a brow arching up to him in suspicion, he couldn't help but have a pang of hatred towards the idiots who seemed to want to make it obvious where his origins lay. Sighing, "Yes, I am from the state of Noxus. No, I do not represent them. Call me a liar, if that is what will make your night restful but my personal matters should not concern you, nor that of Demacia. If you will excuse me." his thick frame brushing by her with gentle ease, the door lock instantly recognized his touch and unlocked as he turned the knob. Going in and closing it, the foot falls of the woman were heard fading away as he tended to his own business.

His fondness of Ionian culture seemed to be noted by the summoners, giving him a mixture of Noxian and Ionian attire alongside it, a very familiar set of armour, with blade and shield to match.

"_For your dedication to your training, we had crafted a heavier version of your armour. Take this as a token gift for your entry into the League of Legends_."

_- Summoner Woldon Hunt_

The letter fading in magical blue light as he finished reading it, he would prepare with a rest, shower and then don the armour for the oncoming night.

* * *

The heavy clanking in the halls could be heard as the indomitable man strode down them with a warrior's pride, the familiar feeling of his training struck him as nostalgic. Even if he hated Noxus, well, the leaders of it. Home was indeed home, despite wanting to return to it, was was a wanted man there, thus rendering it a bit impossible to do so. Ionian seemed to be a shining potential replacement from his experience there, though he would have a long time to wait until he saw fit to do such things, hopefully. The fresh weight of his armour bearing down heavily upon him. Revelling in the challenge that walking alone presented, he knew that this was for the better of not only himself but later on, for that of Noxus.

Though despite the time of night, the place seemed occupied with another. He couldn't help but wonder and go in for a closer look, was there someone whom actually followed such a strenuous training regiment as he did? This would be interesting, the fellow seemed to have white hair, though a diminutive figure for one training at this time or carrying an odd blade as that. Gazing upon the other's figure for a bit, the movements were agile but had strength to them. The sureness with the blade's edge let him know that this was a seasoned warrior that he was dealing with,

"How long are you going to keep on watching? The amount of noise you made coming here obviously let me know you're around." the movement stopping, the voice lighter than a feather, making him lean back a bit in sheer surprise, turning around to face him, stood the Noxian poster child, Riven.

"You...are Riven?" the voice came out in sheer surprise of the simple fact that she was _alive_. "You were acclaimed dead within the days of the Ionian invasion." earning a wince from her gaze, only few knew about her, another one knowing and retelling the tale never did make a day end on a good note. Silencing him with a wave of an arm,  
"Yes, that is me. As many others have recounted that painful tale. May I ask what is it that you want?" arms folding within each other rather comfortable despite the large gauntlet she wore.  
"I have a question for you then, if you are alive and here. Then that means that you have reason to live, I have seen the flaws in our city state. In their ways, I seek to improve the city state to something that can be considered admirable by all, while keeping the strength it has worked so hard to attain. Instilling morals and ideals into the people, not wickedness for power. Yet a place where you needn't kill your own older brother to show you are worthy of the household name." extending a hand unto her, "I am Ion, the Crystalline Magus. Formerly Staff Sargent Ratis De Tere'nu." the hand was not extended in greeting, yet to forge something stronger than a bond of steel.

"I wish to turn Noxus into a better place. Will you join me?"

Shock, interest and curiosity were scrawled all along her face. Stepping away from the presented hand, "I will have to consider your offer...for now, I shall sleep. After all, what Noxian does bring such whimsical words without deceit? I will see you again, Ion, if I feel you are telling me the truth. I shall join you. If not, I shall do more than refuse." she stated, promptly walking off, he would watch her leave. That woman was always known to be a 'softie' when it came to morals and ethics. Thus he knew, at least, if rumour was true, that she will accept. He had to get her on his side, when Noxus started to make their move, he knew that the woman treated honour above all, thus, doubted that she would turn her back on him. Least, until the part where he would lop off the head of Jherico Swain. Friendly relations would have to be made now, for if they were to act against him, having allies on Demacia, Piltover and others would be good to back him up.

_"How does one react, when their dream, seemingly impossible, is given a ray of hope?"_

* * *

**A/n: My brain's been derping about on this one, I'm sorry that it had taken so long to come out. Though the institute of war probably has the least information about the entire area and description about it than _any _other place in the League of Legends world. It was pretty hard to write, so I hope that I managed to properly produce a chapter you guys would like c: ! Your feedback has really been helping me out with the positive re-enforcement I've been getting has helped me out the past few chapters, I really appreciate it!**


	10. Chapter 9: The Raven's Grin

**Chapter 9: **The Raven's Grin

With Riven out of the picture for the time being, it only left Ion to follow up on his initial reason for him to come here. To continue to train his body for the physical strain he would end up undergoing on the fields of justice was probably something that he would need to anticipate as perhaps being his greatest trial of all. He would let Riven go without anything said if she refused, though to forge an alliance with someone of her stature and position would already elevate his own position. She was probably somewhat well known for her intention that is to eventually make Noxus into something better, though alone, as the others would rather see it crumble down into nothingness, she would have no assistance from anything or anyone in doing so. Thus her only ability would be to become stronger in the meantime. So it was understandable for her to be skeptical when someone just pops in and offers her a hand in her dream to turn it into reality.

Taking out the massive greatsword from the sheathe on his back, he would adjust to the new found weight of the armor before taking up his shield as well. The strain already building and mounting on him, though this was perhaps due to not training for a bit. He had no time to reflect on his days spent on Ionia nor on the trip towards it. He was here and there was little more that he can do after cementing his will to change Noxus into something different. Not to accommodate the tastes of the outside states but to simply keep it on the reigns so that it does pass away from the colonial attitude it currently has.

Standing tall, shield arm pressed to his chest, sword in one hand kept upright, the muscles were tensing to keep themselves from simply collapsing atop of each other and leaving a man in armor crumpled atop of himself. The iron training doll looked less human than the ones the Noxian training camp had, they were probably like that to make it simulate attacking a proper person easier. The league just wanted to supply them simply for training, though one would wonder how long they would last here, at least with Ion around.

A single swing left a gash within the scratched iron, starting off at a diagonal slash, the twist would allow him to pull back the shield and go in front of the sword arm half-arc to prevent his side from being left open to the imaginary enemy. Another slash, the grinding of steel upon iron as it was slowly ripped open as the shield was raised to jab at the face as well, allowing the swing to go uninterrupted.

* * *

Hours into the training, nearing to the end. The iron doll of a human would be left to shambles, apparently being thoroughly ground down into the individual pieces. Putting the blade back, he would slide the tip over his shoulder to catch the sheathe, tilt it up and let it slip down and in with little work on his part. He was sweating profusely, muscles aching for rest but he gave them no such pleasure, yet. The only rest a man such as himself can attain is when they are either dead or asleep, as it is the closest thing to it anyway. While on his way to the chambers again, just after leaving the training area with a bit of a mess behind him, he would feel the air change instantly. Having been part of the army and in battle before, he knew what this weight was. Something of _death _its self.

Keeping the shield out, he knew what ever it was, would intend going for his back. Most of his spine and a kidney was protected by the sheer size of the blade he had on his being. The high collar of the armour protected the neck along with the sheer thickness, it would take a close-ranged bolt of a crossbow to puncture through. Combined with the helmet that was thicker from behind and travelled down to the shoulders, supporting the weight of the armour and doubling as additional protection, combined with the thick cloth to prevent it scraping the skin, would at least soften any blunt blows taken. The armour, in essence, was entirely anti-assassin. Double reinforcements on the vital areas with a thin, compact scale-mail layer between the two full steel plates along with leather padding to act to 'catch' projectiles if they puncture through the steel, that was enough reason on it's own to prevent any concealable projectile from being effective without constant use.

The movement was heard, the light landing of feet on the ground, instantly, the right arm was raised and body started to twist, going for a reverse-spinning backfist. The weight resting on the left foot as the right slipped a slight behind him and was used to further accentuate the spinning motion, adding more momentum to the attack. Feeling it connect with something, he felt a moment of resistance before breaking through and connecting again. Upon completing the spin, the shield was raised and back arched in a defensive position, hand not quite going for the hilt of the blade. Such a thing was for training, his shield arm would probably be strong enough alone to take care of any attackers this subtle.

Looking down, he saw the figure, sprawling red under her. He knew it was not blood, lacking the smell of a fresh spill, the figure would get up with a...female grunt?

"Well that's one way to fuckikn' greet a tap to the shoulder." the irritated voice came.

Unyielding, the golden eyes would simply proceed to burn with their intensity, taking a moment to see properly who it was, the scar over the eyebrow and cheek would mean only one person. Along with that demeanour.

"Ah, sinister blade." raising up, seeing how it was another champion, he would feel a slight more at ease, with the judgement coming from the summoners if one were to assault or attack another champion did tend to come with harsher consequences. Though he was surprised at late night, who was he to not know if an assassin had come for his life? Well, she did fill out the prior part of that with her occupation, though the latter was left to be known.

"Not even an apology? I'd damn well gut you here and now if-"

Cut off my the instant reaction from the man, despite the aching muscles, he would return to his previous position, fist curled and ready to strike.

"You know, it's not quite worth doing that to you. I'd forsake the position Noxus has for something simple as you." Well, he did not know how far she would go really, though neither did he know what the institute would do if he was dead. Not that he was willing to find out. "I'd tear your face off though on the fields of justice, though it is always better to know one's enemy, no?" He did not relent from his stance, if he were to do so, an opening would be given, she could strike. He guessed the only reason for her relenting from actually attempting to see his corpse on the ground would be due to the sheer amount of armour he had on him. Unable to simply slit his throat and leave, she would choose this kind of approach. She most likely knew about his origins, being so close to the Grand General himself. Thus it was no coincidence that she were to simply bump into him here.

"Quiet type are you? I suppose that would let my mind linger to guess what your screams are like, all the more to anticipate and savour, I guess." leaning back a touch and placing a finger to her lips in thought. Brandishing the shield unto his back, covering the entire upper half of it, he would simply turn and proceed to walk away. There was no use in conversing with Katarina, delaying his time towards taking off the armour only made his own situation somewhat worse but would simply grit his teeth and endure. It was the only thing he could do for now that is. While walking, he would turn to look over his shoulder, emerald eyes glistening in the darkness, eager for death.

They were sickening.

He respected her capabilities as one of the top that there was, though she did apparently have an adversary of sorts, though not entirely part of the army. At the very least, it seemed like as if there was some restraint, albeit forced due to the leash the institute had on the champions here. He would not regret delivering the hit towards the other, though the lack of blood in her mouth was a touch concerning. Was he this tired? Did a few days of relaxing, well, more of missing out on training, really punish him so much? This was quite concerning. Regardless, thoughts now were directed towards the next two things, shower and bed.

* * *

"So, what do you think of him?" a figure stepped out of the shadows, surprisingly stealthy from such a figure.  
"I couldn't gauge much. What I do know, is that he would be fun to keep~" she teased, "Hearing the same screams from the Ionians and Demacians are nothing like that of the grief that comes from a traitor of Noxus." a dagger idly taken out and flicked about in a nonchalant manner.  
"Will he be a problem?" the question came with some intensity to it, a mission, in a way, being delivered, or a test.  
"Well, even after hours of swinging that massive blade and armour about left a mark" rubbing her cheek some, the faint looks of a bruise forming, "If he keeps that crap on, I would say you better get him under the axe, if he does take it off on the field though, I sure would like to see if he has blood to match the colour of that arm of his." a wry grin forming on her face. She always did look forward to new screams filling her memory, to block out and bury further what darkness resided there.  
"We shall see tomorrow then, until then get yourself cleaned up. I am not used to seeing such a thing on your face." a hint of distaste towards the fact that she actually was struck tinged the man's voice, though nothing more.  
"Oh no, I will keep it and touch it, I like a man who can throw a quick punch after all, lets me check if I can shove a blade in their shoulder before they throw another one my way." her hand gently cupping her face, cradling the temporary brand Ion left upon it.

As they left, the pitch black raven fluttered away, unblinking, as the two figures went their own way. The only audible sound going down the halls was the minor clicking sound of an object constantly making contact with the ground.

* * *

The next day was like anything else, well, he would try to make it as such. The place was still alien to him, or rather, he was still alien to the place. A lot of people seem to have settled in and become rather comfortable by the end of things. The body ached from the previous strain it had endured the night before, though as always, he would ignore it. The furnishings of the room were simple, it was left to feel quaint to the man. A large cupboard to house an array of clothing items, while bearing little, he was told that the league gives generous funding thus in the city that is being built around the Institute would simply have the items they buy credited to their League account. This was an option readily available to the champions and other such workers of the institute that soon was housed in just about most, if not all of Valoran.

It would be hard to say that he just went in and had breakfast, just going into the room, there was an even larger gathering of people than before, noise abound. It was louder than the mess halls back at the barracks. All the same, it was too disturbing for him to do so peacefully. Just as he was about to get in line, he felt something bump against him, blinking and looking down, the glimpse of a glint, thinking it was steel, would turn out to be the woman's hair. Looking up and winking at him in secret 'thanks' for letting her pass, he would simply look back up over most of the line to see how fast things were progressing.

"Well someone certainly lacks manners, not a good morning or recognition towards my thanks?" she would chirp at him, he was merely wearing a light t-shirt and some loose trousers. At a glance, he looked ordinary, except for the sheer bulk of his frame from his training. He would take the usual, whatever meats were available, that were some lightly smoked, flame grilled sausages, sunny-side-down eggs, strips of bacon and a small cut of chicken breast. Moving up to the salads section, he bumped into her again, "Sorry for that again." she apologized, he was not used to such conversation, especially how she left last time, "Uh, it's nothing?" he would reply back, arching a brow and looking just a touch confused, honestly, he hardly felt her bump against him. Not wanting to bring up anything uncomfortable, he wouldn't mention the previous day to the Lady of Luminosity.

Outside seemed to beckon his attention, escaping the noise of the rest of the league guests and champions. He would pass through the magical veil and instantly be hit by the outside temperature. Internally, the entire institute had climate control to ensure a constant 'agreeable' temperature for most of the people there. Individual rooms could have it adjusted to how they wished, though outside had the fresh nature to it. Most of the ones in the garden seemed to be Ionian, feeling more at peace with the proximity to nature, Zyra, along with some buds near her seemed to simply soak up the light. Looked like photosynthesis was pretty relaxing, if not time consuming.

He intended on simply eating and leaving to train as he normally did, though the tides of fate held otherwise for the man.  
"Greetings again!" a familiar voice rang out, there stood the 'golden boy' walking up to him, already in his armour, he had only started, seeing how the _Demacians_ just seemed to grow up with silver tongues that spawned from their blue blood or if they were energetic from Magical means was beyond his understanding. Praising any god that looked over the area for him not to be the target of conversation, he would simply continue with his meal. Though, instant damnation brought unto them all as the sound of rustling grass and a '_thud_' was noted with the weight of his breastplate alone.  
"Ah, Garen, what is it?" he would ask, the morning still making him sound a slight like a frog but it had cleared up for the most part.  
"Well, you were pretty quiet yesterday when we first met, though I'd check up on you friend." he stated with his typically energetic and welcoming demeanour.  
'Friend?' he did not even know anything past his name and that he was a respectable foe, in theory. How does simply listening in on one conversation make them 'Friends'? It was a preposterous idea!

"I...am not one of many words, as they say." he replied with a tinge of unease, at least that was true, though foregoing the term '_friend_' for now, it was perhaps simply used casually. The other man was of different culture so it was bound to come off as something different. Regardless of how much Garen considered him to be a friend, Lux probably did tell him and the others about his origins, so the accommodating nature provided by the other could easily be a ruse. Demacia wanted Noxus out of the picture, what would be easier than targeting a man whom harbours hatred against them? If such was a viable plan, Riven still seemed the same despite her will. Maybe they tried and failed? That would be a question asked later, first, he would have to earn her respect. Then climb the ladder upward and onward through the Ionians and Demacians. Taking a look into some interesting figures from Freljord, Bandle city and Piltover. The.._creatures _dwelling in the Shadow Isles and Void may be better left the brood further upon their own goals and plans.

Shaking his head to snap himself out of his plans and typical over-thinking, the man would look around to see most of the champions seemingly friendly with each other. Was the air so calm around the people whom could be at war with each other the next day? Then again, not all of them strictly represent a city state and others do just take things day by day. Well, long as he can turn Noxus belly-over prior to any conflict starting, things would be made easier. League life was indeed much stranger than he thought,  
"Perhaps, I might see you on the fields of Justice." standing up, Garen probably felt the coldness of the man's shell finally reflect unto him, though Ion did give a quizzical look,  
"Though there are no disputes to clear up are there?" his reply received a low chuckle from the other,  
"No no, there is not. Fear not. The lands of Valoran are in their stagnant state for the time being. It is just practice matches for Summoners to further their strengths. Plus, you are new here, expect people to start summoning you in about two hours or so." he would reply.  
"Though, I have training to perform, are they to constantly interrupt my schedule for their petty games?" the concern was the first emotion shown since the start of the conversation that tainted his nonchalant voice.  
"Well, you signed up. You think my prince has matters to attend do but is also subject to summoning when required?" the man arched a brow, it was rhetorical so an understanding nod was the only reply the man had to offer.

Finishing off the rest of the meal, when he stood up, he would take one last look at the garden. Picnic tables scattered over the place but the design that available for the 'prestige' class of people, the champions to use. The plants scattered around the place still in spring bloom with the early day conditions being something along the lines of a warmer Spring day. The smells of the plants, of the trees mixing with each other and once again, reminding him of the peace that Ionia brought him for that short time he was there. '_Why is it my mind constantly brings me back there?_' he questioned. he was a soldier, the pungent smell of death should be his purfume, blood his canvas and death to be his critique of the mess of human bodies he makes into a perfect art form. Why is it that he finds comfort in the sights of meadows? A longing for somewhere that he can just relax and let go of everything? The short grass tickling as his ankles, crackling under the weight of his movements. The cool humidity and shade of a meadow, he just wished to let go of everything and just stay there.

Such thoughts were wrong, he had spilt blood. Now he realized why he wanted such places. They were _clean_ of the stain he brings to the land. He could not see the damage done to Ionia when he was there, they had cleaned it up perfectly. He wanted to go to a place where he could just pick himself out of the river of blood he constantly trudged through. His mind wanted him to forget about the dying gasps and screams of the people whom he had murdered for broken ideals and men whom wished to impose their will unto others whom already built their own culture. He was fighting, spilling blood and clambering over the bodies of many to prevent himself from drowning in the ocean of blood he had spilt during his time for now. The thinking left him numb, the realization for his longing for that island he went to previously made him ashamed that he so willingly accepted their hand, despite previously breaking their fingers, not simply biting the hand that helped him.

First, he did need to know about those that could help him with his magical potential side of things. Placing trust in a neutral source would be the least risky, though with each one having their own agenda, even the most valiant of people can be twisted into something else. That would be something of priority. He could use the Demacians for this knowledge or a Summoner as well. There were some mages that did not all sit on high horses and think that they are entirely the best and everyone else was nothing to them, right?

All this time, he had noticed that he was still standing up to leave, it was becoming a habit, getting lost in his thought. Turning around, there would be something connecting fiercely to his jaw. Though the head hardly moving in contrast,  
"For last night."  
With that voice, it was easy to tell who it was. The numbness was still in effect, it was hardly registered. Though the left eye twitched involuntarily, he simply side-stepped from her and left. That was an awkward public display, though with his training, a punch like that from her, probably infuriated the woman even more. Though she spooked him the previous night, so really, it was unjustified, especially considering she is an assassin that could have easily been sent out to target him. He left his tray, with plates, at a collection point for the Institute to take care of in their own way.

* * *

Looking for someone you do not know of in this place was a nightmare, not knowing that the champions and summoners are in different sections, so that each can converse freely, there was a section where there was a massive dinner-hall where those whom wished to, could eat and interact with the summoners, though such a location was beyond his knowledge. Before he knew it, something hit the back of his head with some notable force to it, looking behind to see if it was The Sinister Blade, much to his surprise, it was not. If anything, there was _no one_ in the hall he was in.

'_Greetings, Ion. I am summoner Olpien Yurst, I am going to summon you for your first match!_'

Just dandy, he was being interrupted from finding someone to help him out, though he would try to see if Olpien could be of any use.

'_Well, if you're looking for someone to help you with Magic. Taric and Ryze are two people constantly looking deeper into such a subject. If it is the arcane field, Xerath is one who you'd visit. Though he has quite the... never mind. If you are ready, I shall teleport you to the summoner's platform._' he replied, the voice was somewhat young, gauged to be about twenty five or so years old. He could only hope that he would be paired up with someone with some level of battle tactics and wisdom. Seeing the blue light engulf him, his world went black.

Vision returning to see four others around him, there was a giant Nexus right ahead of him, the air was natural, though the amount of pure magic seeping through the area made the crystal left arm pulse quite strongly. Sensing the presence of another Nexus seemed to augment it and synchronize with it. Though, despite that, he felt _weaker_.

'_Right, this is simple. The people around you are the ones whom you shall be with for this match. It is just a practice round so do not worry about defeat. You will gain experience by killing the doll like creatures called minions, when I tell you to attack them, you attack. You get gold slowly as the game progresses that we use to buy items. We have some stuff to start with, so let us just get to the middle lane and get the starter stuff sorted!_' a rather jovial tone accompanied the explanation, the link was strong but not penetrating to go into his memories like the first time he entered the League. Either this fellow didn't want to do that or simply couldn't. Regardless, it was probably for the best. The shop interface opened right in front of him, a selection of two wards, four health potions and two mana potions were selected by Olpien, despite having the items, he did not feel their weight on him or see them at all.

Looking around him, they all greeted each other, "Ah, you're Ion right?" turning to see a woman dressed in some rather regal wear with gold being the primary colour on her, chestnut brown hair with matching eyes and a rather athletic build, despite the size of her shield and sword. "I am Leona, no need for the titles. This is just so you know our names for the time being." she would state, having quite some strength behind her voice. Seemed quite fitting with the image, "I shall be in the bottom lane with Sarah Fortune, commonly known as Miss Fortune though." The woman with the red locks and rather..._revealing_ attire gave him a wink. The figure would indeed entice many if eyes lingered for too long. To his left, a familiar sight came to view, "Oh, Ion. I did not get to see much of you last time we met. How about we see how your combat capabilities are against other champions?" Irelia grinned at him, the humour was taken as a challenge to him though.

"My enemy, shall be ravaged. Fear little about me. I am more interested to see what the Will of the Blade can perform." the reply came with a stout tone to it, he was not used to fighting with _women_ thus having three of them on his team, was unsettling at the very least. "Oh, your name is Ion?" came a strange voice, having to crane his neck down to see who it was, well, a sight of many things in the past had struck him to question what this world was capable. Though a midget mummy was now the benchmark of 'What has this world come to?' Blinking, he was entirely unable to reply to the other, "Let's be friends!" raising his arms into the air, hoping to gain the friendship of another from within the league. The gaze of the man intensified upon the little one,  
"I do not use that term so lightly. Though I understand you mean no harm with your words, albeit, I shall keep it merely to acquaintances first." he declared, the little one seemed a touch disappointed that he did not gain a friend, though the fact that he was accepted by the man did seem to bring an awkward smile to it's face. A firm nod, "Alright! Let's do this."

_Welcome, to Summoner's Rift_

The voice resounded throughout the entire area, following the direction to go, he stood in the brushes next to the Ancient Golem. The grass was tall, though not enough to cover his figure entirely. Despite that, he still turned transparent,  
'_The reason for that is magic, really. It is to give a tactical advantage to the people whom are in it. Thus if they go into the river, we can see them and let the others know that they may attempt to invade our side of the monster-camps, known as the jungle. You will help Amumu, the little one you saw, with the slaying of wolfs and the Ancient Golems. We shall provide enough damage so that his summoner does not have to use smite. The terms for these are Bush, wolfs, blue buff accordingly. Just to let you know some of the terminology that we use here.' _  
"Okay, I trust in your ability to guide me through this to victory. Defeat, even in practice, is still shameful."  
The reply came with the full Noxian force and weight behind the words. When certain things are engraved into one's mind and blood, they just do not quite seem to let go. Such ideals and values, he was willing to uphold, it is just what to fight for and why, were the reasons he turned against Swain.

_Minions have spawned_

After that call, he went to where Irelia and Amumu were. With three magical portals, the wolfs were brought to the world. Instantly growling, he got to work, shooting off the crystals at them, he attacked the small wolfs first as Amumu started to...cry? His concern was noted quickly before he could comment,  
'_It is one of his abilities. When he cries, it pools around him. Cursed to damage targets of a percentage of their maximum health per second. I suggest you do not comment on that, he has been known to act a touch more rash when in this state.'_ taking the words into consideration, a silent thanks would be given as he continued to help the little one with the blue buff. As stated, it was done 'smiteless' as Olpien had called it. Going to lane, he was met with an unfamiliar being. Renowned by name yet never seen by most, the serpentine tail trailed behind, sending out what looked like _snakes_ from her hands.

Cassiopeia Du Couteau

"Oh, so you are the one my sssister complained about last night?" the coy voice betraying the monstrous visage presented unto him, "Well, for Noxus, Swain and my sister, I shall be sure to make you writhe." licking her lips in preparation for the much anticipated torment she was to bring. It was honestly hard to gauge. Cass was physically a monster, though her sister was worse as it was not blatantly obvious that she was a terrible, grotesque being with the guise of human flesh over her. He simply looked at her for a moment, blankly and uncaring,  
'_Ion, are you seriously thinking those images? Calm down, your imagination and brooding should be kept unto yourself!_' grunting in reply, he would simply start to kill off the weakened minions.

* * *

_"I wonder, does death leave a lasting impression?"_

_A/N: _I just wanted to give a quick shout-out to lolmak (not sure who you are on the forums D:) for your dedicated reviews and constant words of encouragement! Alongside with TheModernBard (AerithRayne) for your tips and stuff :D I'm only able to say sorry for not managing to churn this out faster but unable to find any detailed information regarding the 'internals' of the institute, I've decided to let my imagination go loose and toss caution out of the window. So feedback would be pretty awesome and if you think I did miss out on something or can improve, I constantly am trying to see how I can make it better! Even if it's something down to the conversation format or paragraph-spacing, I'm open to anything. Hope you've enjoyed my take on the league champions so far, more to come! 


	11. Chapter 10: Broken Fangs

**Chapter 10:** Broken Fangs

'_Cassio, she will be a tough target for you. Though once you get in range to burst her down, you should be fine and have the upper advantage then.'_ Olpien informed him, '_Like most champions, she has a weak level one, though once you see light engulf her, that means a binding of her power is lifted. As applies to all the other champions. This happens every match as the summoner and champion further their synchronization with each other. We shall take advantage of the weaker start she has than us but as things progress, it would be a touch hard.' _well, the man seemed to know about her opponent's abilities, so that was useful for him to start deciding what to do against her.

'_Also, her primary form of damage is a poisonous cloud she can make. A green explosion that would have a second wind up before exploding. Avoid it as her second form of damage would allow her to constantly damage you with another spell until the poison wears off.'_ so the main thing was avoid the green cloud, then maul. Simple enough.

Seeing the minions in the lane, he would start to attack them. Feeling the empowerment charge start to course through his arm, she did not seem to show any sign of attacking yet. Slowly closing the gap by going to minions closer to her, without a sound, the man would feint a stumble to shoot out another crystal while his left hand was lower to the ground. Digging through the earth and gaining further magic, she would hiss as the rock crystals gathered and exploded under her. Not only that, though tossing her into the air as well, allowing for a few more shots on his part. Retreating a safe distance, the green cloud exploded where his feet were a moment ago. Wanting to not lose the trade, though failing in doing so, she straightened herself out and tried to focus on keeping the minion wave from pushing too hard.

"I thought a Noxian soldier would do more than just slap a woman and run." she would comment, his eyes not even darting to her for a moment. The woman was a seducer, if her apparel did not quite declare such a thing out right that was. He knew how to simply focus on a task and stick to it. For now, it was to take advantage of any given opening, though not to throw caution into the wind as there was Amumu on his team, they would have their own roaming around the map.

* * *

'_Ion, Amumu's summoner has notified me that he wills for the Cursed Mummy to help you out to set Cassiopeia behind. I trust you shall form a strategy to allow him to catch her off guard. You are level seven now, so you should have your ultimate available. Make use of it. Remember, the enemy has a blink spell so if you empower your ultimate, the stun should allow for you to force her to incur a large amount of damage. Friendly fire is never on, so do not worry if Amumu gets caught in it.' _

An affirmative thought was presented to the summoner, the mummy was on his way to the left bush. Conserving his mana, he would not use spells on the minion wave to counter-push Cassiopeia's constant use of her Noxious Blast and Miesma, it was obvious that she wanted to go back or pursue another objective. He would swing to the left side of the lane, indeed a touch far away though he would increase his aggressiveness on that side. Forcing her to leave the centre of the lane least she would suffer under his hand.

"_Inform Amumu's summoner that if he can use his ultimate as well, the duration should be long enough to allow the full force of my power to be bestowed upon the serpent. Thus ensuring a full kill secure_." Ion relayed to Olpien, after a few moments, '_If possible, he would like to safe it to secure a double kill for the bottom lane as it has a high cool down to it. If forced to, he will flash and use it. Though I am backing on your raw power to get us through this and secure it.'_ it would be harder to manage that, though the summoner spells were entirely over his head. The ability Flash was an instant, short distance teleportation ability that could go over walls and short distances instantly but with only one use. Considering that Cassiopeia had no other form of escape, he would have to quickly unleash his spells upon her and hope that it would be enough.

The pulsations of his left arm had let the man know that he was empowered for some time now, when the last minion was killed, he would leap towards her, in middle of a basic attack, with a roar to match his sudden rage, the crystal walls were raised around her. Preventing her from flashing out, the bandages made contact with her stunning the woman for the duration of the pull. Enough time for the quake to kick in and stun her even longer. A barrage of crystals, going through the walls started finding their home in her flesh. Finding that the counter was going up twice as fast, he launched off a curse at her.  
The mark, highlighting her, marking her for death as the wall were prematurely broken and with a clench of his hand, all driven into her. The mummy, as stated, was not effected by any of it, much to his content. Though the target was not down yet, against his own will, he was turned around. The monstrous scream and light coming from where he was facing a moment ago, made him aware that she had used her own ultimate. It was probably for the best, as he hopped back and turned in mid air, the same crystalline layer of his left arm coated his body. Flashing towards her, he would send off a fragment to go her way and explode again. Flames also engulfing her form as 'Ignite', the summoner spell was cast, the bloodied beast was not quite yet down, even after the explosion of crystal fragments.

The mummy knew what he was to do, taking the turret hits, Ion would stomp on the edge of the tail, right hand dragging the wailing beast to point blank range, though a shard was not shot to her skull. A heavy boot was lifted and met with her throat. The crushing sounds of the trachea and spine were heard as he hopped off and ran with the mummy. A few steps ahead, though running as to not die really...well, if he _could _die that was. Thinking any deeper on that subject would not help his sanity, _at all_.

_An enemy has been slain. First blood!_

"Wow, I never saw someone do it like that! Though, I did what you wanted, right?" came the uncertain voice of the little one,  
"Yes, I believe if I tried it alone, the results would have been unsavoury. Your participation was a key playing element." he replied, he would commend others in battle when they deserved it.  
"Thanks! You're not such a bad guy after all!" Amumu said with a good deal of excitement, "Just let my summoner know if you need me again. You're nice to be around with." the implication that he was _nice _was strange. He would have acted differently if he had missed such a plain shot but regardless, morale was an important factor. The attitude of this one, was easily dependant on comforting them. Thus he would simply appeal to him while he had his use. Though, while going back to the tower, a shockwave hit his side.  
"Uh oh!" Amumu knew what the mark meant, Ion, did not. Keeping an eye on the bushes, he saw a man perform a leap kick from them at speed that seemed surreal. He could not block it, though, he would reduce the impact of it. Shooting a crystal fragment in the anticipated direction, the speed of his projectile and the man coming in at him added additional force to the shot. Yet he did not falter, gritting his teeth, the foot landed on him. It had been a while since he felt a hit like that, though it was more revitalising than painful.

The mummy continued to run, the turret shots leaving him at an undesirable amount of health, not wanting him to die for nothing, Ion did not call for him.

'_Turn back, this is lee sin. A hand to hand combat monk that trained in Ionia. You have your ultimate on cool down and you are running low on mana!'_ came the scared voice of Olpien, though there was friction between them. Ion knew escaping would be hard, someone like this would not simply allow it.  
Taking up position, he would jab at the man would his right hand, having it quickly intercepted allowed for a heavy follow up with his left arm. The attempt to smack it away was met with his hand wrapping around the other's wrist. Shooting a shard through forearm, the grip instantly went limp as the muscle was shredded of the tendon. Clutching it and pulling the man to him, a hard squeeze and a small '_crack'_ was heard, not enough to break the bone but to cause a fracture, ensuring that he had a greater advantage over his foe.

The monk, in turn, used his left foot to his his shin and abdomen, gritting his teeth, Ion's right hand made contact with Lee's side, just over the lung. The sheer bulk Ion had was protecting him against the other's blows and doubling up to inflict pain upon his enemy. Seeing that this was starting to go nowhere, he tried to jump to safeguard unto a minion, though the vice grip the left arm brought would have forced the man to forego it entirely to escape. Leading the man to end up being dragged on the ground back towards Ion.

With Cassiopeia close to being back, he would have to finish this fast, shooting a crystal fragment right into him, it would explode and send him into the air for a moment, hanging by scraps of his torn skin before lifelessly dropping to the ground.

_You have slain an enemy_

Running back to his tower, he started to recall. '_You didn't listen to me, though I suppose it helped that he was a few levels lower than you. Keep it up and we'll win for sure!'_ Olpien stated, though, the reply he got would be less than savoury.  
"Do not question my power, summoner. I shall show you what happens when an attainable ambition is combined with my strength and unbreakable will are all in one person." the words were weighty, foreboding future events. Though for now, just sounded boisterous in his own nonchalant manner.

* * *

With the match under way, in full swing, two figures spectating it seemed interested about the turn of events for the Blue team. One standing, the other seated,  
"Why do you think Cassiopeia is against him?"there was almost a hint of confusion to it,  
"Well, you think she would not wish to try and show one like himself the power of Noxus? Either that or she caught wind of that not only was her sister '_attacked' _by him but also, her attempt at hitting him back failed so plainly that some did dare to giggle after her back turned. " the other replied, earning a scoff from the former.  
"Well, it looks like as if his Noxian ways are still there. In the way how he fights, '_Victory, by any means_' if I remember? Just because he is beating her, I hope he does not get the idea that the rest would be such a push-over." placing a palm to support the chin, almost bored.  
"She is more of a loyalty figurehead, old man. She should be going around performing some more..._lip service_ elsewhere, I have heard that her change has allowed for such things anyway. Though, whispers of the shadows always do that." spitting on the ground, disgusted at the thought of that.

"Ho? Why not join in, I guess if you wish to belittle her so much, you ought to see what hard work it is. No?" an evil, smug grin covering what features shown to the world. With a series of cusses later, he was alone again. Alongside a glaring red mark on his face.

* * *

Thirty minutes into the match, Lee Sin had helped Teemo push down the tower Irelia was at, though Ion, thanks to the help of Amumu and the unofficial double kill he got, helped put enough pressure on middle lane to prevent Lee from having incentive to gank. Bottom lane was Miss Fortune, Leona against Lulu and Caitlyn. Her reason for losing was that she was constantly worried if her office would be turned into a mess or if more bills would be credited to her account due to her...other's _doings_. Things had been worse as of late as not too many people picked up Vi as of late, leaving her with free time and restlessness. Two bad things for a woman where 'exessive force' was to be used, not restrained, at all.

With two of the lanes down and the teamfight potential of Ion, Amumu and Leona, surrender votes were being considered. Despite not listed as 'suggested items' he was with a Ruuan's Hurricane, Malady and Scorer shoes, with a Rabadon's deathcap on the way. The additional bolts allowing his empowerment stacks to come up faster, Malady shredded magic resist and dealt additional ability power as damage. The sheer amount of attack speed that he had allowed for him to heavily slow targets with his curse and with ultimate up, spam spells into oblivion with the Blessing of the Ancient Golem.

Watching Caitlyn push against the on-coming minion wave, Lulu was out of sight and mind, possibly helping the others. Thus Ion would leap out of the bushes once Caitlyn passed the segment of the jungle not too far away from their blue buff, the placed the mark on her to slow her. Blocking off her main escape route, she would use a net to go over a wall, allowing him to simply slip back into the jungle. The opening of a snap-trap let him know exactly where she was. Rushing out of his cover, he would go into the tri-brush to see her recalling, about to finish. Interrupting her with a shark kick to the back, a fragment shot to her neck and a foot crushing them both lead to another message being stated that another enemy has been slain. Having assassinated the carry, the others went to siege more towers and bring them down.

Leaving the brush, he felt the shock-wave again, turning around to see Lee Sin instantly leaping towards him, the kick sent him stumbling back a bit, about to engage the man, "Cutiefy!" was shouted out, he was not alone. He had been caught out and accepted his mistake, Though, none were getting without some serious damage. The green mist blasting under his feet started ticking the poison counter on him and the series of sharp fangs ripping through his flesh caused him to grit his teeth. Shooting off the fragments at Lee, when the charge finished, he would raise the wall once again. Trapping Cassio and lee, though lulu was free from it. Her small size allowing for some tricky movement that he could not quite get the grasp of. The stun taking effect, allowed him to start his own assault.

Sending out a barrage of fragments, it was a short time until his next empowerment thanks to his item build chosen by Olpien, thus sending Lee into the air as the walls gathered their full form, shattering and puncturing the two while Lulu kept on attacking to try and damage him for the others to finish off. Seeing Cassio at dangerously low health, instant recognition from Olpien sent him flashing towards her with ignite, the fire smouldering the flesh as she slowly burnt away. Lulu chasing her to try and save but the scorched wailing had none of it. The barrage of kicks and punches was weakening him, moving became harder, casting took more out of him, so he would simply attack lee with the side bolts hitting the support as well. Running was pointless, it was _cowerdice_. The others were in the middle lane pushing to the inhibitor, so his objective was to bring these two down with him.

Seeing him go for a spinning kick, the force behind it even let him see a few flames, landing on the chest, the air was forced out of him, three of the ribs breaking instantly and he was tossed a number of meters back. Everything was a daze, the brush covered him temporarily, enough to get up and see him making his way to the bushes. He wanted to finish the job. Guessing by Lee's insinuations about his attitude, that he would be at the closer-upper edge of the bush. Thus, staying still, he would see the ball just going by him.

Lulu had started to recall to help Teemo try and protect the tower, '_Ion, place a ward right where you are,'_ always carrying two wards in lane, one when roaming was Olpien's motto, placing one next to him, he wondered what the point was. Thus with Lee closing the distance ever faster, the ward would light up as someone teleported to it. Coming from it, a familiar figure would flash out, dash to the monk and stun him. Finishing him off with a few more swipes of her blade,  
"You have done well, Ion. Go to base, the rest of us will take care from here. A bit...extreme on your killing blows but you ensure the job's done." grinning at him, "I guess you did manage to hold out on your own for the most part." Irelia said, watching the blue light take over his body,  
"Well, you held your own as well, congratulations. At least your position of Captain of the Guard is unmatched thus far. Keep being the light of Ionia, Will of the blades. As a soldier, I am proud to say I have fought along with you today." a solemn tone from his end, conveying his thanks for preventing the untimely death from striking.

_An enemy inhibitor is down_

Those were the next words he heard, sitting at the summoner's platform regaining his health, it felt off how the bones would just move into place and just feel refreshing more than simply healed. It was hard to explain, probably due to the amount of healing magic, the mind could not entirely comprehend everything happening at once, thus just giving off that simple pleasure.

The other two turrets and Nexus went down with little delay, thus with the large explosion signifying the end of the round, they were taken to the end-of-match room. Seeing the summoners of both teams face to face as the statistics of the match were posted up for them to see first, public later. Some of the enemy and friendly summoners left instantly, either unhappy to end the match or just to continue with their own agenda, Olpien was one of those who stayed.

"Hey, Ion. It was pretty cool being in a match with you." the summoner declared, he was a fairly jolly lump of a man, a touch short, his stomach making up for the lack of legs in terms of growth, he stuck out a hand, his own did start to move, a nudge from behind encouraging the act, his hand enclosed around the other's. Shaking his hand, the other scurried away afterwards to probably tend to his summoner duties. Amumu, ushered away by Irelia, knowing that if he was to stay too long with IOn that something could easily slip from him to upset the little guy, he could only really get back to his training. Though seeing the others was interesting.

"Ion." there approached Leona, "We seem to go well with each other in terms of combat, able to lock down an opponent for a duration of time and shrug off the damage they try to inflict. I shall enjoy seeing you on the Fields of justice again." Nodding at her,  
"Your ability to shrug off the damage is unexpected of your frame. It was good to be fighting alongside one of your strength as well." a brow arched from her,  
"Did you think I was weak at first?" a challenging grin coming from her, enjoying the compliment but was amused, rather than irritated.  
"I am simply not used to fighting with so many women on the same squadron as I." he shrugged, outside the league there were far and few female combatants. For someone new, it was probably expected.

Earning a hearty laugh from the woman, "We shall meet again. I shall remember you, Ion. May the sun watch over you!" graceful steps making her exit, Sarah Fortune following in tow, though stopping by, his eyes and hers meeting for a moment, "You have dangerous eyes, I like that." a hint of confusion striking him at such a simple comment before leaving, as did most of the enemy team but one.

"I admit defeat, this time, _traitor_." the voice hissed, turning to her, the crystalline hand flexed, "Cassiopeia, I will show you my power time and again." approaching her, an ever growing scowl on his face lead her to know she should have just stayed quiet and left. A hair's breath separating them, along with his height, "I will disembowel you in front of crowds, impact your ribcage so that rotten bag of flesh you call a heart bursts, drain you of your blood and pluck each one of your scales off. Any time." his voice going to a low growl, "I will dominate you with my own hand." using her tail to raise her up a bit, she would go next to his ear,  
"You, shall succumb to my poison next time, the screams I imagine coming from you make good thoughts for private moments." a husky voice, revelling in such thoughts escaping her lips, "Though for now, I leave you with this. As your..._victory_ over me."

Before he could pull away from her, anticipating the worst, he left her lips against his cheek. "Nice stubble." she teased, then proceeding to leave. Alone, a rather baffled man stood scratching his head at the turn of events. Thinking on it, he never did quite try to court with Noxian women before, could that have been considered _dirty talk_ or flirting with them? A woman's mind, why was it so complicated?

* * *

"So, Cassiopeia. How did it go against him?" The woman was in her room, just simply trying to relax after the match,  
"He was a true Noxian to the core, despite his actions. He has a strong will and quite the attitude to go with it." she replied. A small grin touching her lips at the last memory,  
"You lost, yet seem content. Are your proud of such a thing?" almost disgusted, the other would giggle, shaking her head.  
"Oh no, it is never nice to lose. Though, I can quite already see why you like him." letting out a proper laugh.

'_Thunk_'

"Well, I suppose you never liked it when your secrets slip hm?" a clawed hand scratching her chin in thought,  
"I never made mention of such thing. It is merely your insinuation." the other spat back, "Did you at least hear him scream?"  
"Oh no, he kept a stoic face even nearing death." she shook her head, "Though, generally the imagination is better than reality, no?" the tail wrapping under herself acting as a pillow, of sorts.  
"Well, Swain wants him." with a sigh, she continued, "This isn't really my kind of thing. You've taken the married off with you." stretching, then rolling her shoulders some.  
"My dear sister, we are both under instruction to do this. You have more blood on your hands that you've let monthly, how about you just bear with it and _try_? It's annoying when I'm lumped with this sort of thing alone."

'_Thunk_'

Rolling her eyes, "Honestly, if you keep this up I will have to ask for them to repair the place." obviously such an exchange was normal between the two,  
"So keep the comments to your self. Each mark on the wall would have been your flesh." Katarina gruffly replied. Earning the second laugh from her sister,  
"Though, a tip." a brow arched from her sister, still amused with the conversation thus far, "Do not surprise him. He is still weary of our intentions." pausing for a moment in contemplation, "Unless you like it when they hi-" cut off as her face was slammed into the bed, her entire frame was violently shaking and hands hitting the bed, once eventually she calmed down. The hand would relent and tears streaked her eyes, a hand splayed over her chest, "Oh dear sister, you never fail to amuse me." giggling resounding throughout the room as the fiery red head made her way out.

* * *

Back at the dining hall, lunch was going around to the champions. The summoners and mixed halls elsewhere, he guessed that there would be more noise in the other one, thus remained content to stay here. He would take his usual plate, or more of the contents on it would be the same. Meats mostly, then followed by a side of a light salad with dressing. Despite he 'effeminate' outlook on having such a side-dish, he knew that one's nutritional upkeep is priority. Just before he started, someone else sat at the table with him, looking up, it turned out to be Lux again. The last time these two had left off, was not in the best of moods. He had nothing to apologise for, her own disappointment was caused by her own expectations, calculations and assumptions.

"Hello Ion, had a good first match?" she asked, without permission, she sat on the opposite end in front of him.  
"I had a team of interesting figures that I would do battle with again. Though...Amumu seems constantly depressed. His effect on morale was never good to keep with for periods of time. Yet his abilities make up for his shortcomings." he would contemplate. Shrugging, "We were better in terms of our skill combination. Irelia could cut down foes while taking a good amount of hits, I could single out the priority targets and lock them down, in addition to Leona thus allowing me and Sarah Fortune to clean them up." he explained, "Their team was not as balanced or thought out of thus we had the upper hand from the start. Amumu and his ultimate allowed for good initiation as well." shrugging, there was nothing to be proud of when the enemy team is not balanced or a force to be reckoned with. Individually, their skills showed, though as a team, they did not go well with each other.

Taking a sip of water, the woman's face seemed to pale for a moment, arching a brow at her and turning around, he was met with an awkward dress. Well, one could say that there was something of the sort with the frills sticking out from one end. Mostly covered in metal, he looked up to see an unamused look on the other,  
"You might be? I enjoy my food warm, so if you wish to sit down, by all means, do so." it was starting to irritate him that he could not even eat in peace.  
"Punk, I'm part of Piltover's finest. The only reason you won that last match was because _I _wasn't there. You ain' going to just wally your way into this place and act all high'n mighty just because you won once." she bellowed at him.

Knowing that this was not the type of person to speak to, mostly as further conversation would just irritate him. He turned around to try and start calming himself down. Some people here were just plain crazy, so this is why Caitlyn was so worried during the match. Hoping that she would just go away after huffing away at him, it turned out she was looking for something, she wanted something. Though he was not giving it to her. A metal fist hammering down on the table,  
"Hey, you asshole, I'm talkin' to ya." she continued, "Want to know what Vi stands for?" a grin forming, here was her 'punch line' coming.

"Virulent?" he questioned, her expression changing to that of confusion, earning a giggle from Lux, albeit, restrained. The quick sound of hurried footsteps was heard making their way towards the two. The recognizable top hat let everyone know who it was, "Vi? Back down, _now_. That's an order." came the softer voice. A grunt coming from her, she would relent. It was strange that the weaker one gave the orders. Then again, Piltover did have it's own culture. There was probably a reason as to why the situation was like this. The good part is that at least, she was more level headed than her partner.  
"I'm grievously sorry for my partner's misgivings. The match was just a regular one anyway, so I hold nothing against you for it." she informed him.

Turning around to face the two, he would nod at her, "Your concern for your friend is understandable." looking at Vi, "I hold nothing against her, nor would I wish for you to do anything to get unto bad terms with me. It is my first full day here." he would have to be humble, had they been anywhere else, he would have probably already tried to break a bone of hers. Though he needed more allies than enemies.  
"Well, las you didn't mean anything on cupcake I'm fine." folding her arms under her, "You try messin' with her and I'll shatter your pretty arm." she warned, though Caitlyn did turn a touch pink at her nickname being mentioned, "V-vi! Just leave already. I can handle my own, now let's go!" pushing Vi away, dragging her off for a good mouthing at for causing such a ruckus.  
"Ugh Cait, you're such a killjoy, I'm falling asleep _already_." she whined, was there something else than revenge? "Well, you're becoming popular." came the high pitched voice of Lux, at least compared to what he was used to.

The conversation was little between the two, he wanted to just eat, she, well, he had no idea what she wanted. Perhaps to get used to being in the company of others? She was a strange one, despite knowing that he was Noxian, "Luxanna, if I may ask. What reason do you hold for keeping me company?" pretty much finished from his meal, he would look up and ask her,  
"Do you find my company problematic?" curiosity hitting her tone, though her eyes lit up.  
"Not in the least, it is just that I am unused to having someone simply stay here. Let alone one busy as yourself." he commented,  
"Well, that's for me to know." the reply earned a roll of his eyes, why must people be so enigmatic with their motivations?

If the day had not been eventful enough, or at least, the lunch, the serpentine female braced a clawed hand over the shoulder, "Ah, this is where you have been hiding from me?" the look on Lux's face would be priceless, for anyone wanting to see the smile break into something of absolute shock. Meanwhile, Ion did seem curious, albeit mostly disinterested. He really, _really_ did not know how a woman's mind worked.  
"Hiding would be the incorrect term, eating with hints of idle conversation, would be more appropriate I would say." he retorted, one of the moments where he did genuinely look bored, rather than his straight up stoic self.  
"A-ah, well, if the two of you have business, I shall leave." Ion's brow quirking up in response,  
"I thought that you enjoyed my company. Now you want to leave? Would you make up your mind?" the crystalline hand offered up with a somewhat open palm as the situation continued to only just become more awkward. She always seemed to leave on a bad note.

As she was about to leave, something snapped in Ion's mind, "Oh, by the way, Luxanna." she froze, turned to look at him, the hollow smile on her face again, "You seem to know where everyone is. Mind letting me know where Riven is? Thought that she could put a few things I had in mind to the test."  
"Ah! She's normally in the training room if not in a match. Now, if you may excuse me." hurriedly walking off. He could not help but feel that _something _was off about that woman. Aside from the guise she always wore, he could not trust her until he saw past the masquerade she enjoyed playing in front of everyone.

"Ah, finally, she is gone. So now it is you and I." the woman hissed,  
"Along with a room full of other champions. I would say you were far off on that statement." he would let an eye never leave her face, pouting at the remark he just made though.  
"I meant in the general vicinity. Out of earshot." she would say, he was testing her patience as she did unto him.  
"In that case, what objective do you have involving me?" he wanted to nail the hammer on the head, hers would be nice but he guessed intentional harm would be met with swift judgement.  
"Ho? I have no idea what you are talking about." Attempting to play dumb was something he had seen soldiers do along with just entirely being unappealing to him.  
"Woman, stories told that you did something to attain your current form as a curse from another. I doubt you intend on courting me without reason." Being the head political figure of the Du Couteau, you have little to no reason to get close to a Noxian deserter. If anything, you ought to wish more than the fangs you have to tear out my flesh, or taint my blood outside the fields." he offered, Noxus was known for it's trickery. What more than the seducer herself to try something unto him?

The suspicion and hostility made entirely evident by him, "Well, there are some that want your head. Though here at the league, we are to drop our resentment unto others and simply _get along_ unless political squabbles start unsettling the waters again." she informed him, "Do you see the Hand of Noxus running after you? Fights breaking out with the Sinister blade despite her temperament? she made a few good points, though none enough for him to _entirely_ believe her.

"Well, I have training to do, I've sat here with my plate empty for long enough." he stared to get up, his full height towering over her yet again, he took his tray, albeit provoking a question from the other, "Why do you take your tray? They pick them up at the end anyway." a sharp eye meeting her gaze,  
"It is out of respect for the people whom made this fine meal. The least I can do is my own little part since I cannot find them to thank them." indeed the lunches were served in stock before the doors opened, any individual would have to use the secondary kitchens. Named as such for public use, as to ensure that nothing taints the food, the chefs and associated staff are kept without knowledge of the outside world. Noxus, Ionia, Piltover, Demacia, Bandle city and even few from Freljord made their way to the League's kitchens. All they do is cook their meals, come up with their own new items and what to do for the next day. Any outside news is filtered out not to reach them. Ensuring that the dishes do retain their quality to disallow mood swings to upset anyone.

Leaving the room, he would head to his quarters, the serpent still in tow. Looking back at her as the hand wrapped around the door knob,  
"What? You are not to let a woman in your room?" she challenged,  
"I disallow any company into my private chambers. Simple. Plus, such rooms are your playground, I would not dare to think what ideas you may try to instil into me. I did not wish to voice it but I did hope that you would break off from my company for now." he firmly replied. An obvious letdown to her, though she did know that it was impossible for even one of her calibre to get to him so fast.  
"Another time then." she simply said, trailing off the last word before leaving. Sighing with relief, he went in about his business. Shower, armour, then proceeded to march off.

Ten minutes spent getting ready, ten more to get to the location and the familiar figure was practising her swings. Accompanied by another person with a rather long blade as well with a second man. Both men looked at the marching figure simply take out a blade long as one of their own and a bit more, being held with brute elegance, the shield accompanied as the man proceeded to viciously attack and imply the other was attacking back at him.

"Well, boy, you want to fight against an actual target?" the topless man challenged, causing him to stop and look at him,  
"I am weight training, more than actually fighting. Practising fighting not for the technique for now, it is until I can carry the armour with ease while performing my movements." came the reply.  
"Tryndamere's the name, if you can move in something thick as that, I gotta hand you some respect from that alone. One day, I'd like to cross swords with the new guy." he introduced himself, next to him was Garen, practising and attempting to improve on his regiment training scheme, dubbed '_Battle Regimen for Ultimate Soldier Heroism_'. Any eye contact he tried to make while training resulted in aversion from hers, he figured it was still too soon to request a reply. The waters have been still for now, so another few days would easily let her make up her mind on the matter. No matter, he would just have to await another day regarding attaining the alliance. Though for now, he would simply practice and train further.

* * *

"So, looks like you failed." came a vindictive voice, yet a grin almost seen in the words as well. The wall still bore the marks of their previous encounters held with sentimental value, probably holding on to how many times the speaker in question had been pissed off somewhere along the lines of their typical banter.  
"Failed? Why no, simply need to tug on his mind." Pausing for a moment, "Along side _other things_ eventually." the lips widening into a smile, anticipation or the reaction from the other's face that momentarily changed to a hint of surprise at the boldness of the statement.  
"Cassio, how the hell do you manage to come up with such things?" shaking her head and sighing, "How close did you get at least?" her lips in contrast drooping down a slight as she sighed.  
"_Almost_ to his chambers." a pride filled smile shining wide on the woman, "Though when are you going to make your own moves, my dear?" It was one of those moments when the clawed braces came off from her arms, neatly put to the side to allow her to relax. Showing some more of her humanity, even if it was merely in the physical appearance of her arms.  
"I wouldn't say you're kidding me. I am making my moves and plans, along with Swain. Though please to try and get your sister a bit more involved. Long as either one of you get him, it is fine. Though both may be interesting." a stifled giggle coming from her at the thought. Cassio did force a small one herself, though it was either she was going to sink her fangs into the man or Katarina's daggers. Who wins is the one who gets to claim it as their prize in the end. Sharing? Not even when they were little, why start now? A nod did snap her back as her company had simply vanished.

"Honestly, I may not see the fields all too much, though I sure have my work lined up for me." she mumbled before curling up for a small nap.

* * *

"_When one is on thin ice, why not just dance?"_

**_A/n: Hey guys, thought I'd do a weekend update for you lot! Hope you enjoy it, along with my first all-out combat scene. I feel as if I write generally different from most others so I hope you do like it. Let me know in the forums or through reviews if you want to see the next battle being written out and how. If you thought it was too dragging or quite the opposite, not enough! I really enjoy writing for you guys, also, for the sake of future reference for any that come on by months from now, this is based off of the Balance patch 3.5! _**


End file.
